You Alone
by michellemabelle
Summary: EC, Raoul friendly, Christine in the torture chamber 6 months after the performance of Don Juan, will Erik find her in time? And what if he does? Rated M for later chapters. *complete*
1. African Sun

**Chapter 1- African Sun**

The fair skin on her face was now a deep red, her nose already peeling and her lips cracked. A dry tongue escaped her mouth and tried to moisten them but to no avail. She was covered from her scalp to her feet in a layer of dry sweat which her body had long ago stopped producing, for there was not even enough moisture left in her for that.

Her whole body ached and when she tried to think of how long she had been here she could not, as her mind was slowly beginning to unravel. Her head ached of tears her dried up eyes could not shed and the voice she had once used to bring Paris to its knees was now useless to call out for help; she could hardly whisper.

She had tried to draw shade from the trees, trees that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, but it was no use, the sun shone from directly overhead. And even when night came she could not rest because there were animals all about and she was afraid that one of them might harm her.

All she could do was pray that _**he **_was not dead and would find her. And if he was, perhaps it was better that she die here after all. Was it not what she deserved, even? Perhaps she should even end it now, before the sun melted away the last of her strength. Her eyes fell to the noose that lay, conveniently, beside the trees. She would certainly go to hell for _that_ but then she would almost as certainly be with _**him**_.

'Oh God will this torture never end?' she thought, 'This is maddening. Absolutely maddening. I think that I shall never escape this forest. I don't even know how I came to be in Africa. It was as if a rabbit hole existed in the opera cellars and I fell through and landed here. But that is impossible. I must be insane. I was only looking for _**him**_. Why hasn't _**he**_ come? Has _**he**_ abandoned me already? Oh God, why, why?'

She weakly began pounding against the mirror she had been leaning against. The part of her mind that retained some vestiges of sanity vaguely wondered how there came to be a wall of mirrors in an African forest but was drowned out by the chaotic insanity that was beginning to grip her already fragile mind.

One last word formed on her lips before she sucumbed to her exhaustion and fainted..."Erik."

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**a/n : this is my first fic so please be kind, r&r. more to come, the second chapters almost done! and of course i own absolutely nothing, the credit for that belongs to Leroux, Kay and ALW. ):**


	2. In The Aftermath Of A Disaster

**Chapter 2- In The Aftermath Of A Disaster :: **6 Months Prior

"Still no word?"

"No sir."

"Very well Henri, you are excused." Raoul gave a sigh and turned to look outside at the ornate gardens that graced the front of his London townhouse, hoping to find some measure of peace in the scene. There was none.

His thoughts were in turmoil - had been ever since that last night in Paris. His first concern had been to get Christine safely out of France without _**him**_ knowing where they had gone. He had also left to escape the wrath of the Comte de Chagny, though he knew he would have to face that eventually.

Once they had made it safely to London though... Raoul had sent one of his best men to search for the elusive ghost, no, _man_, that had fought so hard for Christine merely to let her go. After the danger that they had all faced at the opera because of _**his**_ love for Christine, Raoul found it hard to believe that they were safe. No, he knew he would never feel safe until he knew the Phantom was dead. And now it had been a week and _**he**_ seemed to have disappeared, which made Raoul more than a little uneasy.

"Raoul? Darling, please, I..."

Raoul turned to see Christine standing behind his desk, her eyes red and swollen. He immediately went to her, wrapping his arms around her slender frame. He was never so helpless as when she was upset.

"What is it dear? You have only to ask. You know I would do anything to please you."

"Oh Raoul, it's just that I want to return to Paris so badly. I know that you brought us here so that we would be safe from... I just miss everything so terribly and I feel so alone here without any friends. I don't know what to do with myself. And I am sure no harm will come from... well, I was set free, was I not? I'm sure we will be fine. Please, Raoul."

She looked up at him with such sadness and longing that he could not deny her, even though such a strong feeling of forboding gripped him he couldn't suppress a shudder.

"If it will please you my dear, we will return to Paris. But perhaps you would allow me to take you on a brief holiday first. If only to allow my brother time to calm himself. We can travel to Italy and Spain if you like. Perhaps even a visit to Perros? Just another month or so and I promise we will return."

"I think a holiday would be lovely Raoul. Just so long as we return to Paris by summer. I don't think I could stay away for much longer than that. Oh, thank you Raoul!"

Raoul sighed as Christine left the room. He had hoped she would be content to live in London indefinitely. He prayed that Henri would find evidence of the Phantom's death before they returned.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

This was the second trip he'd made to his former home.

The first had pulled taut the string that connected him to sanity, to life. If he had still been his former self, the self that ceased to exist when _**she**_ left, seeing his home destroyed would have filled him with bloodthirsty rage and vengeance would have been his with a noose around the neck of whomever had done this. Then again, if _**she**_ had not left this would never have happened. He could have easily dealt with the mob if he had been in his right mind. As it was, he had been too numb with grief to do much more than escape.

Following the departure of his love hand in hand with hers he had merely stared at the music box in his right hand and her engagement ring in the left. It seemed an eternity passed before the sounds of the mob had filtered through the fog in his head. Gathering his opera and the ring in his hands he left through a trapdoor in his throne and led Cesar to the gate on the Rue Scribe side of his kingdom.

Without knowing how he had ended at his childhood home. Making his way inside after carefully listening for sounds of life his eyes had told hiim that it had been abandoned, probably long ago. He relaxed slightly and made his way upstairs to his mothers room. Nothing remained but an old, moth-eaten mattress. He set his opera down and gripping the ring tightly in his fist a choked moan took hold of him. He would not sleep that night.

Returning to the opera house the next day, he hoped to reclaim his posessions, most importantly, his mask. His home was in shambles and everywhere he saw evidence of looting. And his mask was nowhere to be found.

His eyes found the music box laying on its side. Taking only that, he left the destruction behind and returned to the house. He soon discovered one of the monkey's cymbals had been ripped off and hung by a frayed thread. He set about fixing it and when he was finished he played the tune over and over again until he had fallen asleep.

And now, here he was again in his ruined lair. After some of his senses had returned he had realized that he had not checked the Louise Phillipe room for damage, nor his own room or the vault contained in the cellar below the torture chamber.

Upon entering _**her**_ room he saw that no damage had been done. The idiots obviously had not seen the knob in the heavily decorated wall. He lay upon the bed in which _**she**_ had slept and smelled her. He lay like that for hours before finally moving to his own room.

His hidden doors had worked well, as this one had also eluded the mob. He took the small purse of money hidden in the coffin before making his way to the torture chamber. And then he heard it.

One of his alarms was ringing. And the unmistakeable sound of a boat upon the lake was next to reach his ears. He could not risk running into someone now. His Punjab lasso had been stolen or destroyed - he had not yet ascertained as to which - but in either case he had no weapon on him and he had no way of knowing if the one who was approaching did.

He leapt onto Cesar's back and rode off, deciding that his next course of action would be to make a new mask and a new lasso. He would be back and this time he would not be unprepared.

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**a/n : hope you're still enjoying it. special thanks to phantomangelex who reviewed the last chapter and encouraged me to go on (: just so it's clear, the majority this phic is based of the alw musical, but the torture chamber, as well as Comte Phillipe and Cesar, is Leroux and Ayesha, who we will see soon, is Kay.**


	3. The Ghost Is Dead

**Chapter 3- The Ghost Is Dead**

Christine sat on the edge of her bed, clutching the latest edition of _L'Epoque_ to her chest. Her eyes were dry but her heart wept oceans at the words she had seen on the last page of the paper Raoul had handed to her: **ERIK IS DEAD**.

"This means we can return to Paris mon cherie. I'm sorry it has taken so long for us to return home but I needed to be sure you would be safe. Now I can be."

It had been a long time. More than three months had passed on their "holiday" despite numerous attempts by Christine to convince Raoul to return home. She sighed and put the paper on the bed.

"You know nothing would make me happier than to return to Paris. Are we to leave soon?"

"Yes, darling, as soon as we are able. The servants have already been instructed to begin packing and if at all possible we will be in France by the weekend. I have received word from my brother that he would like us to stay with him when we return, which can only mean he has finally accepted us."

Raoul's excitement was contagious and Christine couldn't help but smile in return, though hers was for a slightly different reason. She was undoubtedly joyful at the thought of returning to Paris but not so Raoul and her could finally be married. It was to show him how out of place she would be in his world. That was the only way she could see to break off their engagement without hurting him.

She loved Raoul. She would always love Raoul. He was her dearest friend and the only one to whom she could talk about her father. He was her childhood sweetheart and her knight in shining armor. But while she was sure there would never be a day that she did not think of Raoul fondly, she knew she could never love him as a wife should. He would always be living in another's shadow and that would hardly be fair to him.

And even though she knew _**he**_ was dead now that did not change her feelings. If she could not tell him in life how she felt, she would sing for him, so that in death _**he**_ would know her soul belonged to him.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Stalking the streets of Paris in broad daylight was never something he did unless he had to. There were too many chances to be seen. But he knew that Antoinette would never consent to meet him in a back alley at night and going to the opera was, at the moment, quite impossible.

He had only been to the opera house once more since retrieving his money purse and even though it had been over a month since "The Don Juan Disaster" as the papers were calling it (he unconsciously ground his teeth together every time he thought of the phrase) there were still policemen crawling around in his underground home.

Though he had been armed with a new Punjab lasso he hesitated before killing anyone to get access to his home. Once the bodies were discovered the search for him would begin fresh and he couldn't risk being found as he was composing a new opera and spent several days at a time in the same trance as when he'd been composing _Don Juan Triumphant_.

Now, however, he was not safe in his underground lair with threats to the managers and a frightening reputation to keep people from looking for him. Now he was wanted man. And the police would be much more interested in finding a man than they had been a ghost. Especially a man who had threatened the life of the Vicomte de Chagny.

Besides, he still had Antoinette and once he had reassured her that no harm had come to the Vicomte and his fiance she was willing to help him start again, especially since it was far from the opera. However it had now been over three months and he was past the time of being irritated at how long it was taking to clear the opera house of the police.

"Antoinette?"

"Is that you? Come closer, all I see is a shape in the shadows." She put a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun as he inched forward.

"I posted your ad in _L'Epoque. _I think you should encounter no more trouble from the police once they have realized who 'Erik' is. I'm sure the Vicomte will inform them when he returns from his holiday. In any case, his private detective has left the opera so I expect him to return any day now."

"Yes, I'm sure the Vicomte will be very relieved that _the monster_ is dead. I wonder then, do you think that I will be able to gain access to my former home by month's end? I have almost exhausted what little funds I brought with me and I am tired of making this trip to Paris only to leave with nothing." His tone was becoming increasingly sarcastic in relation to the level of his irritation, which had increased ten-fold at mention of the Vicomte.

"I'm sure you are but as you well know, I have done everything I can to help you and until I am sure that you can safely return to collect the rest of your belongings, I can do no more." There was an edge to Antoinette's voice as well, tired as she was of dealing with Erik's problems, which in turn always seemed to create problems for her.

"Leave me then. I must leave before someone sees us. You know how to get word to me?"

She merely nodded in the affirmative and turned back towards the opera.

He crept back into the shadows and disappeared.

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**a/n : ok, right now i'm just trying to get them back to the first chapter, but it should only be one or two chapters more until we're there. (: please r&r, it makes my day. special thanks to littlecherub5 and carillon for already doing so (:**


	4. A Change Of Plans

**Chapter 4-A Change Of Plans**

Time had never gone by so slowly for Christine. Every day of the last month had been an endless parade of fashion, gossip and critique. Only two times before had she felt so vulnerable, so alone. The first was when her father died and she came to live at the conservatoire and the second was the night she had unwittingly unmasked her mentor.

She took solace in the fact that she had wanted this, wanted society to reject her, to put her in her place so that Raoul would see that they could never be together. But even that was little comfort when every time she turned she saw another disapproving glare, another shushed whisper.

Sitting here in his beautiful gardens she contemplated how best to tell him and gave a start when she heard someone approach from behind her.

"Mademoiselle, I had hoped to find you alone. Perhaps we can discuss a few matters of importance to us both?" The Comte de Chagny's firm but kind voice came from behind her and she turned to see him smiling down at her.

Comte Phillipe had not been as cruel as the rest of the creme de la creme of Paris society but he had not exactly welcomed her as befit his future sister-in-law. Throughout her entire stay here he treated her as a novel guest, to be entertained for her short stay here but then to be turned out to whence she had come.

"Why don't you tell me why you want to marry my brother. I can certainly see why he would be attracted to you, you're beauty rivals even that of la Sorelli. But surely you can see why this match is ill suited? Tell me mademoiselle, what do you really want? Is it money? Fame? If you speak up now there may be a suitable arrangement made for you."

Christine thought for a while, trying to frame her words so that he would understand without truly understanding.

"Comte -"

"Please, call me Phillipe."

"Phillipe, I love your brother. But I admit that I am well aware of the problems my station would cause for a man in his position. I would never wish to hurt Raoul, you must understand, I truly do love him -"

"But you do not wish to marry him."

"No." Christine shook her head sadly and hoped that when Phillipe related their conversation to his brother he would not make it seem as if she did not care for him at all.

"If you are worried about how my brother will take this news, please, do not. He is the one who asked me to talk to you," Christine's head snapped up at this, her shocked expression plain to see, "Though I admit he would have been furious if he had known I attempted to buy you off. He didn't know how to tell you that while he holds you in the highest regard, he has seen over the last few weeks, now that he is back in Paris, that you would never be happy in this world."

Christine sighed, "May I speak with your brother?"

"Of course, mademoiselle. I believe he is in the parlor at the moment. And please, do not hesitate to ask if there is anything you need and you are more than welcome to stay here until proper lodgings have been found." Phillipe looked rather relieved at the whole exchange and Christine guessed, rightly so, that if she had protested and tried to marry Raoul, she would not have been leaving on good terms with the de Chagny family though she was certain she would be leaving all the same.

When she found Raoul in the parlor he had a melancholy air about him and looked as if any moment he expected to disappear into the floor. When his eyes finally met hers and they saw no tears his face was all confusion. And when she took his hands in hers and whispered into his ear : "It is all right Raoul. We both know things are better this way," its expression changed to that of relief.

"Christine, oh my Little Lotte. I do love you so."

"And I love you Raoul. But my music is my life and without one I fear I shall not have the other for very long. And your life is duty and honor and responsibility to your family. Neither of us would be content without the things that make us happy and those things would conflict at every turn."

"But is there nothing I can do to help you? Do you need money? A flat? Christine, there must be something I can do. I won't let you just walk out into the street with nothing." His voice was so desperate it made her heart ache. He always was so good.

"Oh Raoul, you're so good and so kind. There is but one thing I wish you would do for me."

"Anything, anything at all Christine. Name it and it's yours."

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

The little home was now filled with opulent furnishings of every kind and had been painted and reworked until it looked new. Even the garden outside was blooming with roses of every color and name imaginable.

He had worked on it almost without sleep, night and day for over a month. And when he was not working on the house he was composing his opera. There was hardly a moment when he was not doing something to further either of these two projects. For if he wasn't his brain began to weave an intoxicating web of misery which ate at his soul and caused him to curse violently at the air in which he pretended he could see _**her**_ face.

Sometimes when he became too exhausted to work he would return to the habit he had acquired so very long ago in Persia to relieve his pain. The emotional pain as well as his opium addiction were becoming worse with each passing day. There were even days that he felt his emotional burdens physically, as if someone were cutting him open from the inside one scratch at a time.

And now he was at the end of his money and still no word had been sent from that blasted Madame Giry. He had resolved that if the police were not gone within the week he would go there anyway and kill anyone who stood in his way. There were not many other options he could see at this point if he was to continue his opera as well as the continuous supply of poppy he needed just to make it through the day.

And then that infernal headache started again. Rapping against his skull. One two three four five. And then it stopped. And started again. One two three. And again. One two three four five.

"Blast it!" Erik shouted, running to the door. He had been so far removed from reality in his opium induced haze that he had nearly missed the messenger Antoinette had sent, even now knocking on his door.

The ragged, filthy looking little urchin on his doorstep held a letter in his hands with her seal on it. Erik ripped it from him and dropped a few gold coins on the ground which the child quickly grabbed and ran away with.

Finally, he surmised, I will be able to return and reclaim my possessions and more importantly, my money.. But upon opening the letter the hopeful expression on his face turned from one of confusion, disbelief and finally rage.

He ripped up the piece of paper attached to the letter and then grabbed the little opium he had remaining, intending to use all of it. Not much later he passed out next to his piano, still gripping the shredded remains of the latest edition of _L'Epoque_ in his fist.

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**a/n : once again, special thanks to littlecherub5 and littlelottexoxerikstrueangel who reviewed after the last chapter. and as a side note, the alarm that Erik hears in chapter two was set off by Raoul's private detective, not Christine. she won't enter the torture chamber until the next chapter. and each chapter is set up so that whatever is happening to Raoul/Christine in the first part is happening at (roughly) the same time as whatever is happening to Erik in the second part of the chapter. hope this clears up any confusion (: **


	5. Through The Rabbit Hole

**Chapter 5-Through The Rabbit Hole**

"From the top please."

Christine's voice, though virtually unused for the past six months, had taken only a couple of weeks to get into proper shape. And now, as she sang the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet with Sergio, the opera's new leading tenor, it was apparent to all that her voice was still worthy of its former glory.

It had been nearly two months since she'd left Raoul and never in her life had she been so happy. There were no prima donnas to compete with (for she was the new prima donna of the Opera Populaire), no handsome noblemen trying to save her, nothing for them to save her from, even. She had everything she'd ever wanted. Save for... Well it wouldn't do to dwell on that. _**He**_ was dead.

There was a routine to her life that she found pleasing. Every day when rehearsals wound to a close Christine left the stage with Meg where they would go to her new dressing room (she had not wanted to be near the memories of the old one) and talk for hours, sometimes about silly little things and sometimes about all that had happened over the last six months. Meg was still in shock over her dear friend's return to the opera after expecting that by now she would be Vicomtess de Chagny.

When Christine had returned to the Opera Populaire as its new leading lady the entire theatre had been shocked. And if they thought they knew why she had been given the position, well, they were probably right. Because just as the gossiping girls of the corps de ballet heard and then retold, it _had _been Raoul and his brother who secured her place, by meeting with the new managers and offering their continuing patronage as well as to pay entirely for the renovations to the opera house provided Christine Daae was to be the new prima donna.

The only part that had been embellished by the ballet rats was Christine's relations with Raoul. They assumed that because of the de Chagny's generous offer as well as the fact that Raoul continued to see Christine after every opening performance and paid for a rather nice flat in a good area of town, that she had become his mistress. And as for that theory, nothing could be further from the truth.

When Meg would finally leave Christine would talk to the air around her, imagining that _**he**_ could hear her.

"Angel, I sang for you tonight. Oh, Erik, what I wouldn't give to be with you now. But one day we shall be together again and until then I give my soul for you, only for you."

And then she would hum Resurrection of Lazarus under breath until she grew weary.

Nearly every night for the last two months had gone like this until one day, purely by chance, she happened to run into Madame Giry after rehearsals. She had been coming from the direction of a dark alley and Christine wondered what on earth she could have been doing there alone. She seemed extremely agitated and nearly ran into the poor girl. However, she glanced up just in time and upon seeing Christine's face she turned as white the snow on the ground.

"Christine, what are you doing out here? You should be indoors. This cold is not good for you voice and you're hardly dressed properly to be outdoors." The agitation and pale face had disappeared almost as quickly as they had come and Christine wondered if she was imagining things.

"I'm sorry Madame, I merely wanted to go to the market to pick up some bread before I returned home. I happened to see you coming from the alley and wondered what you could be doing down there alone."

"Oh it was nothing. Merely an errand I had to run for a friend. Let's get you back home now." When she spoke now the agitation had returned to her voice and Christine was even more curious as to what she had been doing in the alley when she saw it.

It took all her strength to stop herself from shaking but she knew that Madame Giry could not know what she had seen and she waited until she returned to her flat before she let herself lay down on the sofa and begin to tremble all over.

For in the alley there had been a shape in the shadows. And when she had glanced up she had met the shapes eyes. Even though she could not see them she knew she had met them by the burning sensation that covered her entire body at that moment.

And then _**he **_was gone. Because she knew it had been _**him**_. Because Madame Giry's actions that day made sense if it was. Because she would know that shape anywhere. And because of the way _**his**_ eyes had felt when they looked into hers, as if they were stealing her soul with a single glance. As if they had a _right_ to steal her soul with a single glance.

She sat up, every muscle taut, every bone aching, every hair raised.

"He is not dead." She said aloud to no one. "He is not dead but he has not tried to find me in all these six months."

'Of course you little fool. You left him with Raoul. He probably thinks you a married woman by now.' Her mind argued back.

"No, Madame Giry would have told him that I was back at the opera, umarried. He must know. But he still hasn't come to find me. Why?"

'Well you must go find him and tell him that you love him. He doesn't know _that_.'

So Christine grabbed her cloak and set out for the opera because she had no idea where else to begin looking. If nothing else, perhaps she could convince Madame Giry to tell her where he was.

First she tried her old dressing room but the mirror had been taken away and the trapdoor covered over with bricks. She screamed in frustration and began to pace the floor. She no longer had a key to the Rue Scribe entrance so that was out of the question.

"Think Christine. Where else did he have entrances? All over of course. Damnit. If only I knew where they were."

And then she gave a start. She ran back behind the stage to where the set backgrounds were kept. She stood in the same place Joseph Buquet had been found, hanging from a rope. And there on the floor was a bit of stone that didn't quite match with the rest. She pushed as hard as she could and felt it give way. Looking down into the abyss she saw what looked like a forest in the middle of a room that was filled with a bright light. So bright, in fact, she could feel the heat the room radiated pouring out the little hole under the stone.

"How curious." She looked down for several minutes trying to determine what the room was before finally deciding that whatever it was, it must lead to Erik.

She pushed herself through the hole and found herself in the middle of Africa without quite knowing how she got there.

**a/n : this will be the first chapter that doesn't have both their view points. chapter six will be Erik's chapter but will be (roughly) the same timeline as this one. once again, special thanks to littlecherub5 and carillon who reviewed the last chapter.**


	6. Upon Returning

**Chapter 6- Upon Returning**

"But Erik if you go to the opera you know you will be tempted to see her. You will have to content yourself with our monthly meetings. There is no other way."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Antoinette, _I will not be tempted to see the girl!_ I have no wish to see her. I merely want my money and my possessions. And I will not be content with these monthly meetings when all it would take is a single night for me to get my things. The money purse that you brought to me last time is almost exhausted already and -"

"Almost exhausted? But it has been only two months Erik. The money purse I found in your organ had at least 10,000 francs in it. What have you been spending it on? Please, do not tell me that you have started with your addiction again. You know-"

"What I know is that my money, including what I spend it on is _my business_ _and mine alone_. You'd do best to remember that Madame. I want access to my former home and _I want it NOW._"

As he crept back into the shadows and watched her walk away he thought about what she had said. Ever since that damned article in _L'Epoque_ he had fallen further into his opera than even the days of _Don Juan_, sleeping or eating maybe once in the span of week. And when he stopped he immediately went to his opium.

Damn that girl. He had given her up for love of her. So that she would be happy. Because he thought she wanted a life away from the opera. Because she was in love with her Vicomte. And what did she do with her freedom?

**Daae Returns To Opera Populaire**

We have just found out that as of yesterday Christine Daae, the former chorus girl who for a brief period of time replaced la Carlotta in the productions of _Hannibal_ and _Il Muto_ and who starred in the "Phantom's" notorious _Don Juan Triumphant_ has broken off her engagement with the Vicomte de Chagny, saying that she missed the stage. We wonder of course whether it was because she was not suited for a life of nobility but in any case the Vicomte has graciously helped Mademoiselle Daae to land the role of prima donna and has reputedly paid to keep her in an elegant flat as well. Daae will be performing in the upcoming production of _Romeo and Juliet_, which will premiere when the season begins in one months time. We wonder, of course, if her phantom friend will dare show his face?

He had only needed to read the article once to memorize its contents. The letter that had accompanied it was from a very upset Madame Giry who had implored him not to come to the opera until she could get the girl to leave, at least for the time that he needed to get his things. But the good woman was finding that very hard to do. In her following letters she told him that the girl was there nearly all the time, sometimes even to sleep.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard something...no...he cocked his head to get a better listen and...it was her voice. She was here. He couldn't make his body do what he wanted to do. He couldn't leave. He moved forward to see her. There she was, talking to Antoinette. Did she know? Time seemed to slow down and everything else became unfocused so that all he saw was his angel. His heart softened and he wanted to go to her, to make himself known. Perhaps she would-

He had to fight the scream that was rising from the pit of his stomach. His gaze hardened and he stared at her, willing himself to forget the touch of her lips. The beauty of her voice. And then, she was looking at him. And he knew she had seen him by the way her eyes widened and her mouth opened, letting out a fog of breath in the chill air.

He walked back into the shadows and disappeared.

'Damnit. How could I let her see me? She'll tell the police and then I will have to run again. Such a fool.'

He kicked up clouds of snow from the ground as he walked towards Cesar. He would get the rest of his things and he would get them tonight. And neither Antoinette or Christine were going to stop him.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

There was no one around as he opened the gate at the Rue Scribe to let himself into the opera. He had bought a carriage with the last of his money then stolen a horse from a nearby stable. Cesar and Antony, as he'd decided to call him, were waiting with the carriage close by, so that he could load his things all at once instead of having to make a second trip.

Upon entering his home he found no one about and immediately made for the torture chamber to get his money. After he left he decided that it would be amusing to turn the lights on and leave them. Then if anyone came looking for _his_ things they would get the punishment they deserved. The thought made him laugh loudly and the sound echoed off the walls, bouncing his eery laughter around the room.

It took him less than an hour to secure everything in the carriage and then he set off for home.

'Finally,' he thought, 'I can stop coming back here. I can stop waiting for that little urchin to come knocking on my door only to hand me another disappointing note.'

'No, I will not be returning to Paris again, not ever,' he thought as he stopped the carriage in front of his home. The trip took a little over three hours and he was happy not to have to make it again.

"That silly little Madame Giry. I went to the opera house. And I didn't even attempt to see..._**her**_"(For he still could not bring himself to say _**her**_ name). He unloaded what he had brought with him and went to his bedroom to have some opium. It was just after this that he noticed _**the ring**_ was gone.

There was only one thing for him to do and that was to go back for it.

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**a/n : special thanks to phantomangelex who reviewed the last chapter. please review if you're still reading this, it really makes my day (: so we're finally back to where the story began... **


	7. Through The Looking Glass

**Chapter 7- Through The Looking Glass**

His head was still filled with a cloud of opium as he crawled along the floor searching for _**the ring**_. He had been in nearly every room now and still had yet to find it.

Standing up his eyes caught sight of the little window that overlooked the torture chamber. As he moved closer to it he began to feel the intense heat emanating from the glass. He slowly became fixated on it and was soon only inches away.

His hand reached out towards the window, it seemed to be calling his name, "Erik." Over and over again he heard the word in his head, spoken in Christine's voice. His mind began repeating it to such an extent the word lost all meaning and he began to laugh, though his hand still lay outstretched awkwardly. He felt suddenly dizzy and attempted to steady himself, forgetting his hand, which placed itself on the window as the only object close by to hold on to.

The pain of that contact brought Erik (for a few seconds, at least) out of his opium-haze. The palm of his right hand was an angry red that was stark a contrast to the pale white of his skin. He was still staring at it when he realized two things simultaneously: one, he knew where the ring was and two, someone was in the torture chamber.

He ran into the Louise Phillipe room and grabbed the ring which was laying on Christine's bed. Then he walked back to the sitting room and looked down into the little window to see who had dared to trespass on his home.

The icy force that gripped what remained of his heart did nothing to cool the throbbing fire that held his hand. For upon looking down he saw... No, he couldn't even think the words. His mind was crying out for opium. Because what he saw couldn't be real. _**She **__couldn't be lying there, unmoving._

His mind was becoming sluggish and his thoughts were stilted and crashed into one another, not making sense. After an eternity one thought formed clearly in big, bold, block print: **I MUST GET HER OUT.**

He slowly sat up (he couldn't say how he had come to be laying down) and reached for the lever which put out the bright light in the room next door. And after several minutes he managed to stand fully erect and stiffly walked towards the door that led to the next room which was still sweltering hot. He mechanically picked her up, without even looking at her.

Somehow he made it back to his little house. He was beyond thinking, beyond feeling and when he looked at Christine it was as if he looked through her. He brought her inside and lay her on his bed, locking the door behind him. He was so far gone that he hadn't even thought to check her pulse and didn't know whether he had brought home a live woman or a dead one or whether that was even important.

All that mattered now was the opium.

**a/n : (credit for chapter title to lewis carroll) and special thanks to littlecherub5 and thasinger123 who reviewed the last chapter. this one is a bit short but i hope you enjoy it anyway (: **


	8. Upon Awaking

**Chapter 8- Upon Awaking**

_He was holding his angel in his arms, they were singing together, they were in love. He turned her around to kiss her and pushed her away. She was wearing _**that**_wedding dress and her face was lifeless, her eyes looked vacant, like a dolls. Then the doll came to life, begged him to help her, she was dying. He ran towards her but his way was blocked by a mirror and when he touched it he burned his hand._

Erik awoke with a start, drenched in sweat and freezing cold. His hand was throbbing and when he looked down to it to see it red and covered in blisters a feeling of unease began to creep its way up his spine. Something was wrong.

He remembered going to the opera house last night, gathering all his possessions and then returning home. He remembered taking the opium. He remembered looking down to find his ring missing. But then there was nothing.

He looked down now to see the ring on his finger and wondered how it had gotten there. His brain was slowly beginning to clear itself and bits and pieces of the previous night were coming back to him though he attributed most of these to his dream. It was ludicrous to think that he had found Christine in the torture chamber and brought her here.

Stepping into the upstairs hallway he began unbuttoning his shirt, readying himself for the hot bath he planned to take. He opened the door to his bedroom and staggered backwards, unbelieving. For a moment he wondered if perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the drug but upon moving into the room and touching her skin he was convinced this was real, though his mind could not comprehend _how_.

But he realized quickly that how was not the important question here.

Her face was red, burnt and peeling. An quick inspection showed that her hands and neck were as well, in addition to the fact that several of her nails were broken and her fingertips were covered in cuts and blisters. He felt for her pulse and at first, he heard his own so loudly it drowned out the faint trickle of blood that ran through her parched veins.

Pushing aside the turmoil that he felt, Erik ran downstairs to gather water and medicinal supplies. His anger, his love, his grief could all wait until he knew she was safe.

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Hours later he had bathed her, forced her to drink some water (though she remained unconscious), applied salve to her hands, neck and face, dressed her in his own silk pajamas and put her to bed. There had been times during his ministrations that she had woken up but she had been delusional from heat stroke and had quieted down after he sang her a lullaby.

Erik bathed himself and changed into another pair of pajamas and a robe, then went downstairs to the library to sit. And now that Christine had been taken care of, emotions, thoughts and memories began to seep into his overwrought consciousness.

He could see her near naked body as he had bathed her (for he had left on her shift in order to protect them both), the smell of her hair filled his lungs, her parched voice whispered his name in his ear and the grief caused by the fact that he had been the cause of her suffering once again racked his heart.

Other emotions competed for his attention as well: rage at himself for leaving the torture chamber on and at her for trying to find him, curiosity and hope for the same reason (though much more quiet) and a deep and prolific sadness knowing that when she recovered he would be forced to give her up again. This thought provoked him to anger once more, realizing that once he let her go he would have to move again because she would surely have the police after him.

"Damn. Why are you doing this to me? Haven't you punished me enough? Are my sins so great that you must rip out my heart a second time?" He railed at the unforgiving deity in which he did not believe, then dropped to his knees and began to plead with it. He rambled on in non-coherent sentences, alternating between weeping hysterically and screaming.

At the end of it his body was too weak to stand and he lay on the floor, prostrate with emotion. He did not sleep at all and his eyes never closed. It was only when the fire died completely that he even turned his head but still, he did nothing.

For what could he do but wait?

**a/n : **thanks to littlecherub5 and altgirl76 for reviewing after the last chapter. look forward to christine waking up in the next one! (:


	9. Fighting Oblivion

**Chapter 9- Fighting Oblivion**

It was the knocking that made him get up. But there was no urchin at the door, far worse, it was Antoinette.

"What have you done with her Erik?"

"With who?"

"You know damn well who. Christine. Where is Christine? And don't pretend for one second you don't have her. She wasn't at her home and your things are gone from the opera house."

His voice was terse and his lips pressed tightly together. Antoinette would call the police herself it she saw Christine in her present condition. "She could be anywhere Antoinette. And I won't pretend because I don't have her. I have no wish to see her, much less keep her in my home against her will."

"You have done so before."

"And I learned from that mistake. I collected my things from the opera house because I was tired of waiting for you. I did not see Christine. Now if you would be so kind, I have some business to attend to."

"If Christine does not show up by this evening, I will be back."

"As you wish, Madame." Erik gave her a deep bow before slamming the door after her. His foul mood from the previous night was worsening and there would be no drugged relief. He needed all his wits about him while Christine was here.

It could be as much as a day or two before Christine recovered enough to awaken. And possibly another week before she would be well. He hadn't thought about how to cover up her absence; taking care of her and then dealing with his emotions had come first, not to mention the state he'd been in when he'd found her.

After ensuring she would stay asleep for several more hours by way of a mild sedative he took off on horseback to where he could find the urchin. He spotted him begging for change just outside a tavern. Dropping three gold coins in the child's cup he walked quickly away to a nearby alley. Several minutes later the boy joined him.

"Monsieur?"

"I want you to take this note to this address. Make sure no one sees you, least of all Madame. Do you understand?" Vigorous nodding assured Erik the boy would complete the task. "Here is some money. When I have heard good news I will give you twice as much."

The boy ran off with the note and Erik returned home. His mood had not improved in the slightest but at least he knew he was safe for the time being.

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_"I can't see anything. Why is it so dark?" A bright light filled the room and the tree in the center began to grow. Soon it was so high the top could not be seen. It was stifling hot. "I'm here. Under this tree. Can't you see me?" Then there were hands. It was freezing. Then black._

_"I can't move! I don't know where I am!" The voice was screaming. But where was it coming from? Herself, she realized with shock. "Me? But who am I?" She felt like she was in a pool. Gentle hands were caressing her. She sighed, relaxing. She felt soft. A soothing sound was coming from...outside her. "I thought I was the only one here but there is someone else. Who?" She couldn't make out the words that they were saying. No, singing, she realized. She felt herself lulled to sleep and the black overtook her once again._

_More water. Only now it was a waterfall inside of her, streaming down her throat. The voice was back. "What are you saying? Can you help me escape? I'm trapped here, in the black!" The sound continued the same as before and she realized that he couldn't hear her. Yes, it was a he. But who? It seemed important and she felt like she should know who he was. A light went on inside her and she had the answer, it was just on the tip of her tongue when the black overtook her again._

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There was a fierce need burning within him every time he passed his bedroom. He convinced himself it was a need to compose but when he sat at his piano the only notes that came to mind were those from "Point Of No Return." He banged the keyboard with his fists then looked for something else to unleash his fury on.

Spying the opium he ran towards it, it was in his hands, he would have release. Right before sweet oblivion he threw it violently down, cursing. Instead he ran upstairs and threw open the door to his bedroom, he could shake her awake, he could yell at her sleeping form, he could kill her while she dreamt.

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_She was fighting her way out of the black. There were patches of color and loud noise. A feeling of dread filled her. Then she saw rungs. Climbing. She felt lighter. Climbing. Sound became clearer. Climbing. Her body trembled. She was almost at the top. Only a couple more rungs to go and she would be out of the dark forever. She could see it. She reached up and -_

Her eyelids fluttered. A soft light penetrated her consciousness. Her hands moved to her face but didn't touch, just hovered above her eyes so that she could see them. She existed! Her body seemed heavy and ached all over. She could feel! A crash sounded from below her. This was real!

She used all her reserve of strength to sit up and began to look around. There was a candle lit beside the bed. The black, silken sheets felt soft beneath her touch. The canopy was pulled back and she could see the rest of the room dimly. There was writing on all the walls. Dies Irae. The words came to her unbidden. She had no idea what they meant but it seemed that she had seen them before. There was a door in front of her that was slightly open. Another to her left was closed. She wondered what was behind them. She began to pull herself up, attempting to stand. She was about to give up when someone burst through the door.

_She was awake!_ All the things he was thinking about doing to her... And she was awake. But something was wrong. She wasn't frightened. She wasn't angry. She seemed almost joyful.

"You're the voice!" Her face was lit up and she gave a little clap of delight. He groaned inwardly at the term, one she had used to describe him when he had first begun to give her lessons. Before she had feared him. Before she had left.

She had begun to stare at him strangely. That's when he fully comprehended what she had said. _She doesn't know who I am! _For a split second he was at a loss for what to do. But only for a split second.

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**a/n : so now everyone is awake, yay! special thanks to altgirl76 who reviewed the last chapter. PLEASE REVIEW! It makes me feel loved (: **


	10. In Which Pandora ReEmerges

**Chapter 10- In Which Pandora Re-Emerges**

He searched the depths of her eyes for deception, for knowledge, for fear. But all that he saw was confusion. Erik grabbed her hands in his and used his skill of legerdemain to transfer the gold ring he wore to her finger, unnoticed by her.

"Darling, of course I sang to you while you slept. I am so glad you are awake. Now we can finally begin our life."

"We can begin our life." Christine echoed dumbly. "Our life. Our life. Our life?" Christine began to sob and fell into his arms. "But who are we? Who are you? Who am I? I don't remember anything. Oh God, who am I?"

Erik stroked her hair, reveling in how soft if felt, how good it smelled. She remembered nothing and he would be the one to tell her who she was.

"Christine, you don't remember your poor Erik? Your husband who loves you more than life itself?"

She looked up at him when he said this because somewhere from deep inside of her a voice was crying out, trying to warn her of...something. It was the man's name. Upon first hearing it, the name evoked a feeling of intense love. But soon she began to feel other emotions; fear, confusion and betrayal bubbled to the surface, frightening her.

But when she looked into his eyes those were drowned out by the intense love she had felt upon first hearing his name. And slowly the whole sentence began to sink in. 'My name is Christine! I have a name! And a husband!' She smiled again, then blushed when she was suddenly taken with a desire to kiss him.

"Oh Erik, I wish I could remember something, anything. But when I try all I see is black. It's as if I didn't exist before the moment I awoke."

"It's all right darling. I will help you to remember. But right now I think you need to eat. It has been some time since your last meal."

"When you mention it, I do find myself famished."

"I'll be back up in a moment with some food, my love."

When he was safely outside the room he leaned against the wall to allow for a moment to collect himself. He was afraid of this opportunity because of how delicate it was. There was no way for him to know how long her amnesia would last but perhaps it would be just long enough for him to -

"Damn it." He swore out loud then, realizing how close he was to the open door of his bedroom, he moved downstairs.

"What am I doing? This time will be no different. This is not an opportunity, it's God laughing at me, waiting to snatch her away from me again."

"But she's here. She's here. And I can't help myself. I need her."

He shook his head sadly and went to the kitchen to gather some food for her. If this plan of his did not work it would kill him. He could not survive losing her a second time. She must fall in love with him or -

"Or what, you fool? Of course she won't fall in love with you. She will hate and fear you until her dying day."

"But I have to try. I am nothing without her. She is my love, my life, my muse. I am nothing. She is my everything. Oh!" He moaned aloud with pleasure, she had been in his arms! He had stroked her hair!

He silenced himself as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. He half expected her to be gone or standing there with an accusing stare, demanding to know why he'd done this to her. But she was exactly as he'd left her and she smiled brightly when he walked in.

"Your food, my love."

"Thank you, Erik." He started to walk away and she sounded a quiet, "Oh."

"Is there something wrong?"

"It's just, I had hoped you would stay with me and tell me about my life while I ate. I felt so alone while I was dreaming."

"Of course, I am but a dog at your feet, my love. What would you like to know?" He asked as he sat on the bed beside her.

"Everything, I suppose."

"Well..." And here Erik was at a loss once more. For though he was excellent at deceit and certainly had deceived Christine herself on numerous occasions, never had he found it necessary to fictionalize a person's entire life. And he knew too that certain names and facts could trigger her memory and possibly break the spell of her amnesia (the confused recognition at mention of his name had not gone unnoticed by him). He would have to tread carefully here.

He decided to tell her all the truth he knew about her childhood, hoping to buy himself some time to come up with a story about the rest. Or perhaps put it off all together.

He told her of daddy Daae, how her father had been a great violinist and that they had traveled everywhere together. He remembered some of the stories Christine had told Raoul on the roof top when they had played at being engaged and repeated several of these "dark stories of the north" to her. He thought it best not to tell her of the angel of music, though and purposefully omitted any mention of the boy who saved her red scarf from the sea.

Christine had long ago finished eating and was laying on her side staring up at him, listening intently. She seemed to be enjoying herself and he too began to lose himself to the stories he was telling. This happy, relaxed mood caused him to forget himself.

And that is why he was completely unprepared when she interrupted him to ask, "Erik, why is your face covered with a mask?"

**a/n : it had to happen sooner or later... special thanks to goodbyeybr, sayuristang, carillon and invaderoperaghost who reviewed chapter 9. most reviews for a chapter yet, yay! hope everyone is still enjoying it (:**


	11. A Beautiful Animal

**Chapter 11- A Beautiful Animal **

**Christine had long ago finished eating and was laying on her side staring up at him, listening intently. She seemed to be enjoying herself and he too began to lose himself to the stories he was telling. This happy, relaxed mood caused him to forget himself. **

**And that is why he was completely unprepared when she interrupted him to ask, "Erik, why is your face covered with a mask?"**

**----- ----- ----- ----- -----**

There was a scratching noise at the door and both of them turned their heads, startled at the sound. Erik pulled open the door and looked around but saw nothing. Then he heard a delighted squeal from behind him.

"Oh Erik, she's beautiful! Is she yours?"

Erik turned around and felt a familiar irritation upon seeing what Christine held in her lap. It was a cat, black with a white underbelly. It was purring loudly as Christine stroked its back and when it glanced at Erik it gave him a look he could only describe as haughty and disdainful.

"No. But it hangs around the area and I've seen it on several occasions. I don't believe it has an owner, at least not at the present. It has never come in to the house before. Here, I'll get rid of it for you."

"Oh Erik, can we keep it? It's darling."

He sighed. Animals weren't people and that fact alone gave him cause to like them; he had always treated them with respect and kindness, but never had he thought about keeping one as a pet. One look at Christine's face though and the idea of keeping a pet seemed suddenly like a very good one. If nothing else it might keep her mind off _that question_.

"Of course, my dear. Perhaps I should go fetch it something to drink? Would you like anything?"

"Some water, if you please. Oh, thank you Erik!"

He couldn't help but smile in return but as he shut the door behind him it quickly disappeared.

"Damn it. What did I tell you? She's already prying, already asking questions she has no business knowing the answer to. It will happen again. She doesn't know what is behind there and she'll wait until your guard is down and snatch it right off your face, just like the last time. She'll never love you once she sees. Never!"

"But the cat! It will keep her distracted. I just have to keep her distracted long enough so that she -"

"So that she what? So that she falls in love with you? You are a fool. For all your genius, you are the slowest learner in all the world. Haven't you been hurt by enough of their kind to know that none of them will ever feel anything for you but hatred and fear once they know? Once they see."

"She will love me. I just need time. I just need time. And then she will learn to forget about the mask. She will. She came so close the last time."

"She will never forget. And once she sees behind it, she will never forget that either. No one does. It is you who should forget. Forget seeing her body, forget her angelic voice, forget her kiss -"

"Oh but I cannot forget. I am a lost man. A lost man."

He leaned up against the kitchen cupboards and moaned, wishing he could forget his love for her. Something brushed past his legs and he looked to see the cat rubbing up against his calf for affection. He reached down and moved his hand against the silky fur, delighting in the sensation.

He found the water and put some milk in a dish and brought them back up the stairs to the bedroom. He put the milk on the floor by the bed and brought the cup of water to Christine.

"You know what she needs Erik? A name. I can't think of one, maybe because I can't remember any. What do you think we should call her?"

Erik thought about the question. He really thought Christine should name the cat since she was the one who wanted to keep it. A name popped into his mind though and thinking that she might like it, he volunteered it. "How about Ayesha. It means 'beautiful' in Arabic."

Christine clapped her hands together and looked at him with such adoration in her eyes, he thought he would melt. "It's lovely Erik! Ayesha, Ayesha, Ay-" Suddenly the cat jumped onto the bed and into her lap. "I think she likes it!"

"Well, I will leave you now. If you need anything just call for me."

"Erik, well, I was...hoping that...well, it just seems that if you are my husband you would...well, I think...I think that you should sleep here." The last words tumbled out in a rush and it took Erik several seconds (several seconds during which hours seemed to have passed) to comprehend her statement. Or was it a request? When he did it seemed as if his body had gone hot and cold simultaneously.

"Sleep in here? With you?"

"Well, yes. I mean, you and I are married. Haven't we ever slept together before?"

"No. Of course not, I wouldn't dream - I mean, we were only recently married. Only the day before you...had an accident. And so we never have. Slept together, that is."

"Well, will you? I would feel better if you were beside me."

It wasn't that he didn't want to, of course. The thought of sleeping next to her caused every fiber of his being to scream with longing. And that was precisely the problem. Every time he had come close to attaining something he desired it had been violently ripped from him, causing him to be wary and afraid of anything good that was offered, especially something offered so freely.

But as far as he could tell there was no way to get out of this without arousing her suspicion (for what husband would turn down sleeping with his wife?) and that was the last thing he needed at the moment, after so narrowly escaping her last question.

"I will. But I must attend to some things in the library first. I will be back later."

"But you promise that you will?"

"Of course. As I told you, Christine, I am but a dog at your feet. I would do anything to please you. I will be back later tonight."

Erik shut the door softly behind him and walked to the library where sat down in his chair to stare at the wall. His thoughts were, luckily, far too much in fright to speak up so he sat in silence for the next several hours. Finally, he walked back upstairs and opened the door a crack to see in.

She was sleeping peacefully on the edge of the bed, curled up on her side. Her hair was sprawled out, the delicate ringlets cascading over her shoulder and onto the pillow. He walked in and shut the door behind him. Reaching out he ran his hands over the length of her, as close as they could be without actually making contact with her skin.

He watched her for several minutes before making his way to the other side of the bed and stiffly laying down on top of the sheets. He never slept, just closed his eyes and listened to her breathe until dawn.

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**a/n : **special thanks to altgirl76, paola a. and ierik for reviewing! the chapters are getting harder to write and taking a bit more time than before, so hope they're worth the wait (:


	12. Fresh Air

**Chapter 12- Fresh Air**

Christine awoke to the sensation of a rough tongue on her hand and scooped up the cat as she opened her eyes. She started to stroke its fur and looked to her left to see a slight indent on the other side of the bed. If she leaned close she could smell a lingering masculine odor.

"I do believe my husband slept with me last night, Ayesha! But I wonder where he is now? Perhaps I am strong enough to walk and go look."

Putting the cat down Christine situated herself so that her feet hung over the edge of the large bed. She pushed herself along, inching closer to the edge until her feet touched the floor. Grabbing hold of one of the mahogany canopy posts she pulled herself up until she was in a standing position. She leaned heavily on the wood for a few minutes before taking a few tentative steps forward.

She found that, despite some soreness of her muscles, she wasn't badly hurt. Or at least not enough so to be unable to walk. She walked around the bed to the open one of the doors she had seen earlier. Once inside she discovered the room to be the master bathroom. She wished she could bathe before trying to find Erik but she had no idea where to find hot water and supposed she would have to ask him before she would have the luxury of being clean.

She was just about to leave when she noticed a curious thing. She searched all around the small room but nowhere could she find a mirror. 'How odd.' She thought. She started to wonder if perhaps it had anything to do with the mask he wore but quickly pushed the thought from her mind. In the brief span of time between asking him about it and discovering the cat she had looked into his eyes and seen a look so horrible she trembled just thinking about it.

She had decided upon further reflection that perhaps it would be best not to ask about it, though, that in turn created a great deal more questions to form in her head. Had he ever told her why he wore the mask? Why didn't he want her to know? Why did he seem so distant from her if they were married? What had happened to her to make her forget her memory? Why had he not yet told her?

Her thoughts had continued on and on like this until she had grown weary and fallen asleep. Upon waking this morning she had come to the conclusion that for the time being she would try not to dwell on any of these questions and focus instead on trying to get her memory back. If she did, she would surely remember the answers to all these questions anyway and spare herself the ugly scene she was sure would happen if she asked Erik any of them.

She had just reached the door leading out into the hall when she heard the most beautiful music playing. She felt inexplicably drawn to the sound and practically floated downstairs to find its source. She saw Erik seated at a piano, lost to the notes his fingers were coaxing out of the instrument.

He finished and turned around, seemingly unsurprised to find her standing right behind him.

"Did you enjoy the music, my dear? I hope I did not wake you, though it is good to see you out of bed."

"Oh, very much so. But you did not wake me, I was coming down to find you when I heard it. I was wondering if perhaps I could have hot water to take a bath?"

"Of course, of course. Go back upstairs and I will fetch some water and then make you breakfast while you bathe. You will find your clothes in the closet."

"Thank you."

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After breakfast Erik offered to read Christine one of the books in his library to pass the time, which she eagerly agreed to. She decided upon _Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam_ and Erik read the verses to her first in Persian and then translated them to French. Christine thought it sounded beautiful, especially in Erik's rich, seductive voice. He had a way of talking that lulled her into a peaceful state, not quite asleep nor fully awake.

It took her a few moments to collect herself when he finished and she could sense his eyes on her, which made her nervous without quite knowing why. She stood up and began to walk around the room, running her hands along the backs of the books as she did. She was beginning to feel rather claustrophobic and had a strong urge to go outside for fresh air.

"Erik, would you accompany me for a walk? I haven't been outside in days and I could use some fresh air."

"Of course. Let me get something warm to wrap around you and we can go. There is a trail that eventually ends up in a beautiful meadow which at this time of year will be covered in a fresh blanket of snow."

They walked along in companionable silence until reaching the meadow. Christine's breath caught in her throat at the sight, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Oh, it's absolutely lovely Erik! I don't see anything but white for miles!"

Erik was experiencing a similar reaction, though it was caused by a very different view. He watched Christine dance in the snow and stick her tongue out to catch a lightly falling flake. He was completely absorbed in the scene and failed to notice the mischievous gleam in her eye for what it was until the first snowball hit him in the chest. At first he was taken aback, unsure of what to do having never had playmates in his youth but by the time the second one hit him in the arm he was more than ready to fight back.

He pretended to fall when the second one hit and Christine came running over, laughing. Just as she offered her hand to help pick him up he threw two snowballs, one hitting her stomach and the other her face. She looked perfectly shocked then wiped the snow from her eyes, leaving tiny flakes attached to her eyelashes. Erik found them ridiculously fascinating and couldn't help but stare giving her opportunity for a fresh attack. This time it was his face that was hit.

When he finished wiping the snow out of his eyes she was nowhere to be seen. He looked all around and finally spotted her out of the corner of his eye, doing her best to hide behind one of the few trees in the field. He pretended not to see and continued to "search" all around the area, then hid behind a tree himself. He watched her look around, confused, snowball in hand. He called out to her from the opposite direction of where he stood, using his skills as a ventriloquist.

She never saw it coming. He snuck up behind her, hand full of snow, grabbed her from behind and pushed it down the back of her dress. The shriek she gave was lost to the cold air along with his bellowing laughter. She hopped up and down and tried to reach her back to get rid of the snow but to no avail. Finally he came to help her and when he was done getting rid of the snow she hit him playfully on the arm, smiling.

Both of them were breathing hard and their mouths emitted little puffs of fog in the cold. She was staring up at him with an unfathomable expression on her face that matched his own. He noticed her hands lightly pressing into his arm and realized one of his hands was still on her back, edging ever closer to her neck until it brushed against her throat. He could feel her pulse beating beneath it and sucked air into his mouth rather harshly, noticing his own raspy breathing.

Several minutes passed like this, both of them unmoving, lost in the moment. Erik was the first to snap out of it. Letting his hand trail down her arm to link his hand with hers he began to lead her back, making sure that she did not fall, since the blanket of snow covered dangers like open ditches and rocks. By the time they reached the house their thoughts were numbed by the cold which had turned both their cheeks and noses bright red.

"Go upstairs and change into something else so that I can dry that dress. I'll start a fire in the library and make some dinner. I hope you enjoyed the fresh air."

"I did. Very much so Erik. I'll go get changed. And I hope...well, I hope that you will join me in bed again tonight."

He watched her slender form disappear around the corner and let out the breath he'd been holding, feeling the tension in every part of his being that was trying to crush the feeble hope beginning to blossom in his breast and push the potent desire he felt to the back of his mind.

**a/n : special thanks to christine daae desler and i**Ü•**erik who reviewed the last chapter. little fluff (: more to come in future chapters, as well as some angst and betrayal. you know, the usual, haha. (;**


	13. A Well Intentioned Friend

**Chapter 13- A Well Intentioned Friend**

Over the next few weeks Christine began to forget the questions that had seemed so important before. Her memory had shown no sign of returning. And though every once and a while a certain word or a song would give her pause, in the end she always shook her head and went about whatever she had been doing.

Erik made their meals (oh, and what meals!), brought up hot water for her bath, doted on her at every opportunity, read to her upon request and sang her to sleep every night. And though he was always awake when she went to bed and when she awoke, she knew he had slept beside her because of the scent he left behind. Sometimes she would roll over and curl up on his side of the bed just so she could surround herself with it.

If she wondered why he never touched her as a husband touched his wife, she put it from her mind. She was afraid of the answer to that. What if he didn't want to? What if he did? What if they had already and he thought her terrible at it?

There were times, of course, where she found it very difficult to put it from her mind. Sometimes when Erik thought she was asleep she would hear him go downstairs to his piano and play a song that caused a very heady response from her body. She found it very hard to put it from her mind when he played _that_ song.

And curiously enough, it was also that song that brought her memory closest to her consciousness. Sometimes it caused her hair to stand on end and she felt as if something terrible were about to happen. On those nights she had frightening nightmares and awoke with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

But this morning began differently. She had been dreaming that she was by the sea and the scarf she had been wearing floated on the wind towards the water. It was very red, which she could see easily because everything else in her dream was in black and white. She was about to cry when a little boy with blonde hair ran in after it. Just as he was bringing it back to her a loud crash sounded in the distance, which frightened her very much and she woke up.

But then she heard another crash and realized it was coming from downstairs. She was afraid to find out what it was but then she thought that Erik might be hurt, so she put on a dressing robe and opened her door a crack to see if she might hear or see something that would determine for her whether or not to intervene.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Erik practically growled as he spoke, "I thought I told you not to meddle in my affairs. Damn it, Antoinette, I don't have the girl. I haven't seen her. I've no idea where she is. Didn't you tell me that you had a note in _her handwriting_ that implied she was in need of guidance and was on her way to Perros to see that woman Valerius and to visit her father's grave?"

"Yes, Erik, I did. But that was more than three weeks ago. Le Vicomte de Chagny went to Perros a few days ago to see why she had been so long detained and found that not only was she not there, she had not been there in several months, since he himself took her. Erik, if you have her, you must give her up. This must stop!"

"It is you who must stop Antoinette. Perhaps the girl decided that life at the opera wasn't for her. Maybe she eloped with yet another rich nobleman. How am I to know?" As he said this he threw a glass vase out the window (the third since Madame Giry had arrived!) and heard a satisfying crash which calmed him down some. "Antoinette, why on earth would I give the girl up merely to claim her again?"

"Because you love her. Because you gave her up so that she could have a better life with le Vicomte de Chagny and that never happened. Erik, please, let her go."

It was 'let her go' that drove Erik into a rage once again. Let her go? Let her go? As if he kept her here against her will. 'But would she stay willingly if she knew? If she had her memory back?' He silenced the mocking voice inside his head and spoke very quietly to Madame Giry, "Go now Antoinette. Do not ever come back here with more ridiculous accusations or I cannot say if I will be able to control myself."

"When have you ever been able to control yourself Erik?" But she turned and walked away anyway, wondering whether Erik was telling the truth about Christine. She shook her head, there was no way to know short of raiding the home and she could not do that to him without knowing for certain there was reason to.

Erik shut the door behind him and walked back inside. He looked at the clock and decided it was time to gather water for Christine's bath and far past the time to find a way to cease Antoinette's unrelenting inquisitiveness.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Christine crept back into her room as quietly as she could and got back into bed. Her mind was in turmoil and she was having trouble understanding what had just happened between Erik and that woman. Antoinette? The woman's voice had struck an internal chord in Christine. She knew her. A flash of a woman in black garb, her face blurry. Another flash of herself, much younger and wearing a tutu, a blonde girl sitting beside her. Then something happened...the vision became darker and a black cape engulfed the scene until the flow of memories was blocked out once again.

Who had they been talking about? Some girl that the woman thought Erik had abducted? But why? And that other name, de Chagny... All of this seemed so... familiar. The uneasy feeling she had after a nightmare was in the pit of her stomach, causing her to feel physically ill. Something was not right and she needed to find out what.

----- ------ ----- ----- -----

**a/n : you have to love Erik's friends but why do they always have to meddle in his affairs?! haha. special thanks to altgirl76 and ihearterik (my computer refuses to actually put in the heart, haha) for reviewing. hope everyone is still enjoying it. (:**


	14. To Concoct A Plan

**Chapter 14- To Concoct A Plan**

As he gathered water for Christine's bath Erik thought over possible solutions to Antoinette's meddling. He could not let her find Christine, of that much he was certain. But the only possibilities that seemed likely to stifle any further threat for good seemed too drastic.

The most obvious, of course, was killing Antoinette. But that he dismissed immediately. As much as she may have been a thorn in his side, she had also been one of the few to ever help him in his long life. No, he could not do that to her.

The second option was to move out of the country. And though that would only further Antoinette's suspicion that he had Christine, there would be nothing she could do about it if she didn't know where they were. He hated to leave his home but it was becoming clearer to him that leaving might be the only way they would be safe.

"If you gave her up now you wouldn't have this problem. And you know damn well that's all she's ever been. First she tears you from the opera and now your new home. And all for what? The possibility that might learn to love a monster? Such a fool. Call Giry back and give her the girl. Be rid of her for good. Then you can get back to what is truly important - your music."

"My music is nothing without her. I could not even finish _Don Juan_ until she came to me and I finally understood desire. And I still desire her. God help me I -"

"And when has God ever helped you?"

"That is not the point. I need her and she will love me. She will learn to forget the mask and what lays beneath. We will be happy and I will have a wife to take out on Sundays. We will be happy!"

"She won't forget! And even if she did, do you think she would forget other people? Eventually she will want companionship beyond that of her _"husband."_ What then?"

"Oh I don't know. I don't know. Stop asking such impossible questions of me. All that matters is her. And as long as I have her -"

"And how long will that be once she has recovered fully? She will rip your heart out a second time and not even look back. You will be the one who is left alone once again and she will marry a handsome nobleman and forget all about you, except in her nightmares. Ah...hahahaha! Yes, that is what she will forget! You!"

And upon hearing this Erik crumpled to the ground and wept, uncaring of the rapidly freezing water in the bucket beside him. His hands gripped his hair with such force that he ripped some out and a little trickle of blood made its way down his forehead, though even this act of self mutilation went unnoticed.

It wasn't until it began to snow again that he returned to a fully conscious state. Judging by the sun, several hours had passed and he realized that Christine must be awake by now and might become worried if he did not appear to her soon.

His clothing was soaked from the snow that he had been sitting in and the water had a thin film of ice on it. He dumped it out and got some more, then brought it inside to place over the fire. Upon changing he noticed blood on his shirt and a throbbing pain in his head. He went outside and used snow to clean off the wound, cursing himself for being so careless in his reverie.

By the time he was changed and the water sufficiently hot it was well past one o'clock in the afternoon. He rapped on the door and stepped in but was instantly disconcerted to find Christine in a state of near undress.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

"Oh, darling! Will you help me with my corset, I can't quite - oh! You brought water for my bath! I thought perhaps you had gone out to town and I was going to get dressed without one."

"I am truly sorry for the late arrival, Christine, but I had pressing matters to attend to with an...acquaintance of mine. When you are done bathing I will have breakfast ready for you."

"Well, actually Erik, I was hoping you would help me in here."

"Oh, with your corset, of course. Just call for me when you are ready and I will assist you."

"No."

"No?"

"I was hoping you'd help me with my bath."

"Help you with your bath? I'm afraid I don't understand. You haven't needed help thus far and it has been several weeks -"

"Yes but this morning I felt a bit achy when I awoke and I thought it might be nice if you would bathe me this morning so I don't exert my muscles. Then help me to get dressed. I'm not too terribly hungry this morning so I can wait for breakfast a bit longer. I believe it's lunchtime now anyway."

She hoped he wouldn't question her further on her sudden need for assistance. Her muscles felt fine. She hardly did anything that exerted her at all, since Erik was always quick to do nearly everything for her. But she thought that if their relationship would progress to... well, that of a man and his wife physically, that perhaps in time (though she was praying it wouldn't take much of it) he would begin to trust her.

Isolated as they were she could not imagine how to get the answers for the questions her revived curiosity demanded response to other than to ask Erik. And while at first she had been unflinching in her decision that if she must, she must, eventually her fear of the broken vases caused her to succumb to a more subtle approach.

So she had come to the conclusion at long last (for Erik had been gone for several hours after his confrontation, giving her plenty of time to think) that the best course of action would be through the marriage bed. Though the horrified look on his face now had her doubting her plan, well thought out as it was. And for some reason she felt like crying.

"Of course, if you are too busy, I'm sure I can attend to my bath myself." Her voice was almost a whisper and broke on the last word. She turned around to hide her trembling lip.

Erik could not believe that she was asking _him_ to _bathe her_. Finally after several moments she spoke again and he could tell that she was about to cry. But why? Because she thought he might refuse? Or perhaps she felt she had to because, well, why?

Of course! Because she thinks you're married, you fool. A husband is naturally interested in his wife and she thinks you aren't interested in her. Of course _he_ knew nothing could be farther from the truth but the thought of once again seeing her naked and touching her...he shuddered with pleasure. She would be awake this time.

Erik had much more self control than most men but this request was pushing him past his limit. His first, self-preserving response, was to say no, however he had no wish to see her cry and sucked in a deep breath of air before responding in a voice that barely contained his tightly leashed desire.

"If that is what you wish, my dear, I would be most happy to help you bathe. I'm sorry if I upset you but I had a rather difficult morning and was not prepared for such a...welcome invitation."

Christine turned around hopefully and looked up into his eyes. She could see his burning desire and it shocked her. It reminded her of the way she felt when he played _that song_. She felt it stirring in her belly, and a blush spread over her whole body as she thought of how much she really wanted him to do this. Not just because she wanted him to tell her whatever he was keeping from her but because she really wanted it.

"Shall I help you disrobe?"

"Yes. I wouldn't want the water to cool."

Neither of them could break the contact of their eyes and his deft hands helped her to undress without even having to look at what he was doing. Christine shivered as she stepped into the water and Erik could only stare at the goosebumps that appeared on her skin.

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**a/n : i'm evil so i'm gonna make you wait for the bath (; sorry for the longer than usual wait for this chapter, my internet has been a bit sketchy and it's been a busy week (birthday and christmas coming up, you know). special thanks to ihearterik and signedog who reviewed the last chapter. my birthday is friday so everyone review as a present to me!! (: (: **


	15. Conscience & Desire

**Chapter 15- Conscience & Desire**

**Christine turned around hopefully and looked up into his eyes. She could see his burning desire and it shocked her. It reminded her of the way she felt when he played **_**that song**_**. She felt it stirring in her belly, and a blush spread over her whole body as she thought of how much she really wanted him to do this. Not just because she wanted him to tell her whatever he was keeping from her but because she really wanted it. **

**"Shall I help you disrobe?"**

**"Yes. I wouldn't want the water to cool."**

**Neither of them could break the contact of their eyes and his deft hands helped her to undress without even having to look at what he was doing. Christine shivered as she stepped into the water and Erik could only stare at the goosebumps that appeared on her skin.**

**----- ----- ----- ----- -----**

Christine's shiver was caused both by the contact of the hot water on her cool skin and by the knowledge that Erik was watching her as she stepped into the tub. When she had eased herself into a comfortable position she closed her eyes and waited, not even realizing that she was holding her breath.

Erik did his best to steel himself against the desire that coursed through his blood but failed, causing a physical reaction he fervently hoped she would not notice. Seeing that her eyes were closed he moved closer to the tub and picked up the sponge that lay nearby, dipping it into the water. He gently touched her back so that she would lean forward and started washing her at the nape of her neck. At least this way he could avoid the frontal view for a while longer (because he wasn't sure that once he began washing her there he would be able to maintain what little remained of his composure).

Christine sighed as he began washing her. It was one of the most pleasureable sensations she'd ever experienced. She had the inexplicable urge to grab the sponge from him and demand that he wash her with his hands. She blushed fiercly at the thought but her mind continued to dwell on it until it was the only thing she was able to think about.

"Erik?" Her voice came out in a breathy gasp that caused him to throb painfullly. "I was thinking that perhaps you could maybe do it...without...the sponge."

A tense silence filled the air. Erik's hand had stopped moving and lay on her back, still holding the sponge. His mind had gone completely numb which he could only assume was due to the lack of blood flowing that direction. But Christine had grown tired of waiting for him to react and turned around in the tub until her face was directly in front of his. The kiss she gave was tentative at first but when he (finally) began to respond and their mutual passion found an outlet the kiss intensified until their tongues were exploring each other's mouths and their breathing came in short gasps.

When it ended they both felt dazed and it took them several minutes to move. Erik was first this time, the kiss had sealed his fate and he lost the internal struggle with himself, composure being dealt a glorious defeat in the face of desire. Dropping the sponge into the water he poured soap into his hands and began to massage it onto her skin. Christine groaned and when his hand brushed past her taut breast she stopped breathing once again, as all her energy became focused on the nerves he was titillating.

Her wet body was tantalizing and he could no longer content himself just to gaze upon it adoringly. His hands wanted to worship her in a much more physical way. He leaned forward for another kiss and while their mouths were engaged he began to touch her more intimately, starting with her breasts and then moving further down.

He was gently rubbing circles on her belly when finally she could take no more of the ache she felt inside and taking his hand in her own pushed it those final few inches towards heaven. "Please." She managed to gasp between kisses. She felt herself being lifted up in his strong arms and placed down on the bed, still dripping wet. They both fumbled at his clothes until he ripped them off with a frustrated growl. He looked down at her expectant form: pupils dilated, chest heaving, skin shimmering with water and her hair sprawled over the pillows. Her mouth was slightly swollen and open slightly so that he could hear her breathing. Never had she been so desirable. And now she was about to be his forever.

And then the voice.

'Could you ever forgive yourself for taking her when she doesn't even know who you are? This is not love. This is deception. And she will never forgive you when she remembers.'

It was nothing but a whisper in his head. But he knew the answer to the question it posed and he felt himself give up. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he leaned over her and whispered, "I'm sorry" in her ear.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

**a/n : what a time for his conscience to kick in, eh? damn those voices in his head, always ruining everything. thanks to authorgirl, mike'sgrrl, madhatter45, ihearterik and altgirl76 who reviewed the last chapter. keep 'em coming (: and don't worry, they'll quench their desire eventually (;**


	16. A Memorable Gift

**Chapter 16- A Memorable Gift**

_She was onstage, wearing a very revealing outfit and twirling a flower in her hands. There was a sense of expectancy that hung in the air around her. She felt his presence and knew before the audience did, even before he began to sing, that it was _he _and not Piangi behind her. She listened to the words he sang and felt a familiar sense of euphoria wash over her as well as a deeper sensation, pulling at her from the inside of her stomach. She began to sing the duet with him and as it progressed the feeling inside her became more intense and she had only to look into his eyes to see that his passion matched her own, if not exceeded it. She was terrified but continued to sing. He was holding her from behind and running his hands along her curves. She couldn't breathe and she looked down to watch his hands. She was naked! She tried to shield herself from the audience but when she looked up they were gone, replaced by a huged poster bed. They were on it, so close to the final act. Everything blurred. The only thing that remained in focus was the mask. The mask. The mask. Suddenly she knew, the answer to everything lay behind it. She reached up and started to pull it free..._

Christine awoke with a start. "What an odd dream." She said aloud to no one but Ayesha, who merely looked up and then began to lick a paw. But this time she could not shake the uneasy sensation that remained restless, deep within her. She wondered if perhaps there was some truth to it. Had she ever sung on stage? Sung _that_ song with him? Perhaps she could casually mention the dream to him over breakfast, just to see his reaction. Though probably not all of it... She blushed thinking of the more sensual parts of her dream.

Ever since _that _night he had tried his best to pretend as if nothing had happened between them and Christine followed suit. She had been about to mention it once but as if anticipating the train of conversation she was about to take he abruptly left the room and retired to his library. She peeked in and saw the most terrible look of dejection on his face that she decided not to bring it up again. At the very least, that night served one very valuable purpose: she knew that he did desire her. She hoped that whatever held him back would not for much longer but was infinitely more content to wait now that she knew it wasn't a hopeless cause.

She found her bath already filled and took her time in it, luxuriating in the memory of him washing her. Ayesha's meowing distracted her from her thoughts and she looked up to see the cat looking mournfully at her a good distance from the tub.

"Don't want to get wet but you want my attention, eh? I suppose it's time I got out anyway."

When she had finished with everything she picked the cat up and headed downstairs for breakfast. But there was nothing prepared and even more disconcerting was Erik's unusual absence. She was about to go search for him when she spied a note lying on the table.

**Christine, my love, I will be back shortly to pick you up. We are going to eat at Le Cirque for breakfast this morning. - Erik**

Christine's heart skipped a beat. They were going out! In all the weeks that she had spent here (or as many that she could remember, at least) they had never ventured into town together. She had felt rather anxious to go out for some time now but whenever she had been about to ask Erik if they might go somewhere he always managed to distract her.

"But Ayesha! I must look a frightful mess!" With no mirror in the house Christine had seldom worried about her appearance and with no one around to remind her of it but Erik (who did not) she hadn't given it much thought. But if they were to go out in public she would need something to ensure she looked appropriate.

"And what an odd thing, anyway, to not have a single mirror. But he must! I'll just have to go look for it."

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Erik had spent most of the morning running errands, first to find a present for Christine (for it was Christmas tomorrow) and then to secure tickets on a train headed to Italy. He hoped the trip would be temporary but in any case he had hired Joseph (as he had recently learned the street urchin was called) to come around daily and make sure no unwanted visitors were hanging about his home. If so, he was to send word to Erik immediately.

He also dug through more of Christine's letters and painstakingly traced words in her handwriting to send an explanation for her absence to Antoinette and le Vicomte. He hoped that this would satisfy them but that nagging voice at the back of his head once again took an opportunity to remind him that eventually they would act on their growing suspicions, notes or no.

When he returned home to pick up Christine he found her digging through the drawers of his desk. Fear that she would find mementos of her former life triggered a violent rage. What in God's name was she doing rifling through HIS things in the first place?! He was about to ask aloud that very question when she looked up and saw him. The expression of exasperation on her face immediately turned hopeful when their eyes met.

"I'm sorry to go through your things Erik but I read your note and found myself in need of a mirror so I could properly dress my hair, but I can't seem to find one anywhere. Do you have one?"

Erik felt a surge of relief flow through him and he silently cursed himself for being so stupid. He had yet to go out and purchase for her many of the feminine things she would need, a mirror among them. He had not wanted to at first, for her face had been red and peeling and he had not wanted her to see herself in such a state. But by now all physical signs of her time in the torture chamber had faded and there was no longer any need for concern. He racked his brain trying to think if he had anything that would suffice as a mirror and realized he had the tools to make one, at least one that would do until he was able to buy her everything she needed.

"Go upstairs and I will bring you a mirror. After breakfast we can go shopping for all the things that you need."

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

The day was an exciting blur for Christine and once again she forgot all her doubt and curiosity, even the dream that had left her so unsettled this morning. True to his word, after they left le Cirque Erik had taken her shopping for clothes and anything else she could possibly want. He spoiled her horribly and if she even so much as commented on how nice the color of this dress was or how those shoes had a beautiful buckle he would buy it. By the time they were ready to return home the carriage was laden with their purchases and Christine was overwhelmed by his generosity. She was sure no one had ever given her so much at once.

Erik asked her if perhaps she would like to sit and read by the fire while he attended to some pressing personal errand. She agreed and soon felt herself drift off to sleep in the cozy chair, letting the book drop to the floor.

_She awoke from a peaceful slumber in a beautifully decorated room. She ran her hands along the expensive furnishings and opened a closet that was filled with the most beautiful clothes she had ever seen in her life. There was a faint melody coming from the other side of the door but when she went to open it she found she was locked inside. Suddenly the music stopped and the door opened. She looked into the masked face of her maestro and felt instantly relieved. Her Angel would never harm her. He brought her out to his sitting room and entertained her for a while until a small buzzing sound filled her ears. He begged her forgiveness and disappeared for a moment. She noticed a light coming from a window to her right and walked over to examine it. She had almost reached it and could feel an intense heat emanating from the small pane of glass when he whirled her around and told her to go back to her room. She did as he bade her but gave one last backward glance to the window. The light was off but her maestro's face was contorted with a maniacal expression of rage. She shuddered but found herself more curious than ever about the light behind the window. There was something nagging at her but the scene shifted abruptly, so that she was now standing beneath an iron tree. Such a simple thing but it frightened her out of her mind. She began to call his name, knowing no one could take her away from this wretched place but him. "Erik. Erik. Er-"_

"Darling, darling, what is it? You were having a nightmare. Shush... Don't fret, I'm here. You're safe."

"Oh, Erik, it was horrible. I was trapped and it was so hot and there was this tree. This horrible iron tree and I was calling for you because I needed you to save me." She continued whimpering, still traumatized and (thankfully) oblivious to the way that Erik suddenly stiffened at the mention of the iron tree. He knew all too well what she had been dreaming of and it frightened him more than he cared to admit. Her memories were bubbling up from her unconsciousness and it would only be a matter of time before she truly remembered...everything. He wondered how many other dreams like this she'd had.

He carried her upstairs and set her down on the bed before returning to the library to think.

"She knows. Damn it she knows! Any day now something will provoke her memory and she'll become fully conscious of who she is. Who _you_ are. And then you will never see her again."

"All the more reason to take her away now. The day after tomorrow we will leave for Italy. Then it won't matter. I only need a little more time. Think of the other night. I am so close this time. Closer than before. She will love me, I know it."

"She will leave you. She only wants you because she finds the mask mysterious. She can't comprehend what it hides. Once she remembers...along with what you are: murderer, thief, extortionist, kidnapper -"

"I am tired of this. I want you to go away. I want you to leave me alone. She has made me happy."

"And miserable. Don't forget how she left you the last time. You were ready to die. If not for me you would have!"

"Oh just go. Just go. Leave me in peace. I can't quiet you down now because she is here and I cannot indulge in relief. It is not fair."

"And when has life ever been fair to you?"

Erik hung his head in defeat and it was some time before he finally left the library to sleep beside Christine.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Christine opened her eyes and per her usual routine rolled over onto Erik's side of the bed to smell his lingering scent before getting out of bed and taking her bath. When she went to the closet she was surprised to find only two dresses left and wondered what had become of all her clothes. She shrugged and forgot about it, Erik always took care of her and probably had a reason for their little disappearing act.

She walked downstairs and upon reaching the sitting room her breath caught in her throat. A rather large pine tree was in the center of the room and had been decorated with all sort of miniature hand carved toys. Underneath lay a single box that had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper. A small note lay on top:

**Merry Christmas, my love. I hope you enjoy your present. - Erik**

She carefully unwrapped all the tissue paper and opened the box. Inside lay a small music box, on top of which sat a monkey holding the cymbals. She wound it up and as she stared at the little thing, tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

Erik watched her open the gift, though she was unaware of his presence. He had searched all over town for the perfect gift to get Christine but all that he had seen had fallen short of what she deserved. He knew it was a risk giving her something that held so many memories for the both of them but it was worth it to see the look of pure joy on her face. But then she was crying and he grew worried again. Perhaps she remembered? He coughed quietly to alert her to his presence.

"Oh, Erik, it's beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn't even know it was Christmas and I've nothing to give you."

"Your presence is enough, my dear. I'm pleased that you like it but why are you crying?"

"I don't know. The song is so beautiful but something about it seems sad. I don't know what. But I do love it Erik."

"Well I have one more surprise for you. We are going to go to Italy for a bit of a holiday. We leave tomorrow."

"Oh really! That's wonderful! It would be so exciting to see someplace new."

She rushed up to him and hugged him. He was caught off guard but quickly responded in kind. She leaned her head back and he surprised himself by acquiescing with her silent plea. The kiss they shared was deep and intoxicating and both were reluctant for it to end.

However an insistent knock at the door quickly aborted both the kiss and Erik's good mood.

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**a/n : thanks to thephantom'schristine and ihearterik for reviewing the last chapter. i promise they'll find relief for their desires...hopefully soon (; read. review. drink and be merry. (:**


	17. Intrusion

**Chapter 17- Intrusion**

"Christine, go upstairs. I'll come get you when breakfast is ready." Erik's tone brooked no opposition and she trudged upstairs unhappily, not yet having been ready to break from their embrace. She wondered if maybe she should try to eavesdrop but instead of inviting the intruder in, Erik went outside to speak with them. She went to the window in the bedroom and opened it, hoping to hear at least part of the conversation but soon realized they were out of sight as well as earshot.

"Damn it, Antoinette, I told you not to come here anymore. I don't care what news you have of Christine. I don't want to hear it. I have nothing to do with it." His voice barely contained the fury he felt at having the tender moment between he and Christine interrupted. "It's Christmas. Shouldn't you be with your family? Traveling hours away from Paris to question a man who has more than once threatened your life hardly seems an appropriate holiday celebration."

"Erik I have come to apologize. I received a note the other day, as did le Vicomte, from Christine, detailing the reason for her absence. I am sorry I doubted you, though certainly you can see why I would, considering -"

"Considering that I am a monster who is obsessed with her? But I am glad you are finally seeing reason. Especially since I am going to be leaving Paris temporarily. Now if you please, I have personal matters to attend to. Do not bother me again Antoinette."

"But Erik, leaving? Why?"

"Antoinette if you insist...I can't...There are many...Like I said..."

Their voices were becoming muffled now that he had moved farther away. He began to inspect the grounds of the monsters home, trying to find an easy entrance or some sign of Christine. Madame Giry might be fooled by that ridiculous note but he was not. And if anyone knew where the monster lived it was her so he had followed her everywhere for a day until finally he was rewarded. Christine was here, he knew it.

Christine looked out the window to see a rather handsome blonde man creeping along the edge of the house. At first she was terrified, the man was prowling about, testing one of the windows below her. What if he broke in? But then he looked up and their eyes met. She was jolted by the memory of a dream she'd had a while ago of a little boy running into the sea to save her scarf. When he saw her he immediately began to motion to her to let him in. Did she know him? He was acting as if she did. As if she should want to see him. But if she knew him then why was he creeping around their house, why not just knock on the door? Something about this felt wrong. She decided that she would not let him in but that she would go downstairs to the library and talk to him through the window. After all, Erik was nearby and could save her if the man proved to be dangerous.

Christine opened the window and the man immediately attempted to climb into the room. She shrieked and pushed him away.

"It's all right, Christine, I'm here now. But you are right, no sense in my coming in when you can come out. Do it quickly and he won't know you're gone until we're safely away."

She stared at him dumbly, uncomprehending. Had she been having an affair with this man? But she looked again. There was something about the tone of his voice that implied urgency. But why? Why would she be in danger here? Unless...he thought she was in danger from Erik! But certainly her own husband would never harm her.

"Wh..what are you talking about? Why would I want to leave?"

"Christine, have you gone mad?"

"Who are you?"

"Who am... What has he done to you? Do not tell me you don't remember me? Oh, my Little Lotte, has he truly brainwashed you? Dear God."

Upon hearing that name waves of uneasiness crashed into her stomach. The man obviously knew her and expected her to know him. But more importantly, why did he want to take her away from Erik?

"Why do you think I should leave? My husband will protect me from any danger that-"

"_Your husband_? Tell me it isn't true. Have you two truly been married? I see the ring but that doesn't mean anything. What happened?" The man reached through the window and began to physically shake her, as if that would somehow return to her the sense she seemed to have lost. "Damn it. He will be back any moment now. Christine, you must come with me, just trust me, it is for your own good."

"What? No! I can't leave my husband based off the word of a strange man I do not know. I may have lost my memory but -"

"Of course! Christine, if you've lost your memory then we must get you someplace where they will help you to recover it. Please, come with me. Your husband is not the man you think he is. He... The mask Christine. If you look behind the mask you'll understand. But no time for that now. Come-"

The man's voice cut short and Christine gasped. A noose bit tightly into his neck and he was beginning to turn a deep shade of red. He tried in vain to peel the thing from his skin but it merely pulled tighter. Her eyes followed the noose to its end and saw her husband holding it. A fire burned in his eyes... She shuddered at what she was thinking. He looked the same as in her dream, when he stood by that tiny window with that evil expression on his face.

"Erik stop! Please! Don't kill him!" She was screaming and crying, begging for him to stop. She saw him look at her and his entire countenance changed. The rope loosened and the man fell to the ground, unmoving.

"Don't worry, Christine, he will live. Go upstairs and wait for me." His voice was ragged and tired, and she wanted to run to him and hold him, but did as he said and returned to the bedroom.

Erik stared down at le Vicomte, hatred and sorrow gripping him as he pick the man up and slung him over his shoulder. Hatred at the man who once again destroyed his peace and tried to take what was his. Sorrow that Christine had witnessed him at his worst. She was fresh, she had known nothing of the horrible deeds he had committed. And now she had just watched as he had nearly strangled a man to death.

"You fool I-"

"Silence! Don't speak to me right now. I don't want to hear anything that you have to say." The voice obeyed, thankfully, and Erik brought Raoul to Joseph in silence. At the very least, Antoinette had already left by the time Erik had discovered the boy, so it would be a while yet before she would know that Erik had nearly killed him or more importantly, the reason why. He told Joseph to watch over the man until he recovered and under no circumstances was the man to be allowed near his home again. Erik left the boy some extra money to use to pay other men to "teach le Vicomte" a lesson if he ever attempted to do so.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Christine sat on the bed stroking Ayesha, hoping to forget what she had seen. Erik had nearly killed that man, though for all she knew he might have been a bad man anyway (something in her told her otherwise), but the thing that had scared her the most was the look on his face as he had been strangling the blonde man.

And then of course there was what the man had said. "The mask. He told me that I would understand if I saw beneath the mask. And in my dream I thought everything would be clear if I just took it off. Maybe I should... But Erik never takes it off. And I don't think he would ever let me... If only I could just _remember_."

She heard Erik return and lay down, pretending to be asleep. She wasn't sure what else to do. She felt his presence at the bed, staring down at her. Finally he left and she thought she smelled food wafting up from the kitchen. Her stomach growled and she sighed. 'I can't avoid him forever.'

"Christine, I am more sorry than you could ever know for what happened this morning. I wish I could explain it to you... But I fear that would only upset you further. Please forgive my actions, they were only intended to protect you." In truth, they were more to protect him and the fantasy world he had created with her but he guiltily shoved those thoughts away.

"Erik, I trust you." And she looked up into his eyes with such love that he was no longer surprised to find himself holding her against him tightly, possessively, as his mouth came down to meet hers.

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**a/n : yes, well...he had to come muddle things up sometime, right? on to reviews: thank you once again to ihearterik, my most loyal reviewer (: thanks also to music'senchantment and to answer your question...i could never break erik's heart a second time, i adore him far too much (; finally, to the anonymous reviewer who caught my boo boo in chapter 15, good eye. i removed the sentence. sometimes i get a bit caught up in this and forget that she forgets, lol. thank god her memory will be returning soon, eh? (most likely chapter 19). anyway, read and review, i'm always eager to hear your thoughts (:**


	18. The Difference Between Dream & Fantasy

**Chapter 18- The Difference Between Dream & Fantasy**

Christine followed Erik to the back of the train where he had secured a private car. It was opulent and comfortable and she soon found herself drifting off to sleep opposite him while he read.

_She sat at her dressing table after a performance, feeling utterly exhausted but overwhelmed with joy. Her angel had been there tonight! She had felt him watching her as she gave her soul to him. And now he would come for her... If only Raoul hadn't come. She looked nervously at the walls around her, afraid of how much he had seen of her childhood friend. And then she heard him singing to her. She fell to her knees and pleaded with him to let her see him. He directed her toward the mirror and she found herself walking _through_ it! He pulled her close, covering her with his cape and she saw no more._

Erik watched Christine as she slept, noting the rise and fall of her breast, the tiny pulse at the hollow of her throat, the unconscious movements of her fingers... He felt his own hand curl into a fist as he fought to keep from reaching out and smoothing her hair where a curl had fallen out of the intricate style she'd weaved.

His own thoughts were fairly peaceful as he didn't care to dwell on the events of Christmas afternoon. It wasn't that he didn't find them troubling, just that they seemed rather trivial in light of the fact that Christine, his Christine, had told him that she trusted him. No one had ever trusted him and it was no small joy to him that she did. And since he had silenced the voice it hadn't yet come back and so he had no one to tell him that when she awoke from this slumber of forgetfulness, that trust could very well be broken.

He began to picture their life as he hoped it would be: long walks on snowy days, carriage rides and strolls in the park on sunday afternoons, her singing in the opera... He became utterly absorbed in this fantasy as the train progressed and it was only when he heard Christine's voice crying out that his mind snapped back to reality.

_She was at her father's bedside watching him sleep. He was so thin and pale, she began to sing a lullaby to ease herself. Mama Valerius had fallen asleep on the other side of the room, her head lolling off to one side. She felt a weak hand grasp her wrist and she looked down to see her father staring up at her with the most joyous expression on his face, as if he were in ecstasy. At first she fooled herself into believing he was getting better but when he began to speak it was with the hopefulness of a man who was minutes from death. "My Little Lotte, come, lean in close so I can tell you I love you before I die." "No papa! No! You-" "Hush child. Christine, do you remember the tale I told you of the Angel of Music?" Christine nodded her head, pursing her lips together to keep from crying. "Well, when I am in heaven, I will send him to you. He could not possibly resist a voice as beautiful as yours. It is my final gift to you. I love you Christine. And now I'll join your mother in heaven, so that we can watch over you together." His voice had taken on an ethereal quality and his whole body seemed to glow with a vigorous life. "Sing for me Christine, sing for me." She began to sing him the lullaby she'd sung to herself earlier and watched him close his eyes, a smile lighting his face. It seemed she had sung forever, tears streaming down her cheeks and onto the worn quilt that lay over her father. She had closed her eyes for several minutes, not daring to look upon his face. When she finally opened them she was standing outside in the snow. It took her several moments before she realized where she was. She looked at the large headstone in front of her and upon seeing the name written there began to cry out, "Father! No! Don't leave me alone! Please, don't die! Oh God, oh God!" _

"Wake up, Christine, wake up!" Erik began to shake her more forcefully, trying to tear her from whatever nightmare held her in its terrible vise. She opened her eyes and looked frantically all around, finally settling on him. She gripped him with a force he hadn't known she possessed and begged him to hold her, never to let her go, which of course he promised readily.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

After the last dream Christine no longer wanted to sleep and Erik set about amusing her with simple magic tricks. She was still truly a child at heart and clapped in delight at each one. Erik was so pleased with himself for making her happy that no matter how hard he tried to he could not erase the stupid grin that stretched across his face.

They ate bread and cheese and drank expensive wine until Christine was a little bit tipsy. She found everything he said terribly fascinating which Erik found adorable, having never before seen her in such a state (as well as having never before had his ego stroked to quite such a delicious degree). Eventually the wine made her sleepy and she fell asleep in his lap while he pleasured himself by petting her hair, which by now had come down completely.

He began to see musical notes in his head and memorized them as quickly as they appeared. It would be the perfect fit for the second act of his new opera. He hadn't worked on the composition since he'd found Christine, having been too pre-occupied with her to focus on it. Hell, he hadn't even thought of the damn thing in weeks.

He looked down at the sleeping form in his lap and found himself thinking of the night that they had almost made love. He had been so close! She had willingly offered herself to him and he had turned her down. What if she never gave herself like that again? What if he'd pushed away his only opportunity at relieving the passion that caused his blood to burn every time he saw her? His petting became harder and he wound his fingers in her hair, trying to grasp at a happiness he had never been allowed.

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**a/n : ok...moment of truth on the way...christine will have her memory returned to her in the next chapter, via a not so nice event, indirectly caused by raoul. (ya, i know i said "raoul friendly" in the summary but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to be a hero, that's just in his nature, lol). onto reviews (: thanks to ihearterik, whose prayers will eventually be answered (; music'senchantment who gives me nice long reviews (: invaderoperaghost who i hadn't heard from in a while, thanks! and altgirl76, don't worry, there will be a full love scene in a couple more chapters (; umm...read and review and i'll write the next chapter!**


	19. Friend, Lover & Father

**Chapter 19- Friend, Lover & Father**

By the time they reached the hotel in Milan both Erik and Christine were exhausted. After a long bath to relax sore limbs and muscles, he read to her until she fell asleep then watched her breathe for several hours before finally succumbing to his own fatigue.

_She was standing in a passageway backstage and there were several backdrops laying around. She looked down and found what she was looking for. Moving the stone aside showed the opening to his home. She looked through to see a million trees standing under a hot sun. "How curious." She dropped through and the light went out. She looked up and saw that she was standing underneath an iron tree. The sight made her want to scream but no words were coming out. She felt several pairs of eyes on her and she turned around. There were three men standing several feet away from her. The first was young and handsome. He looked very worried and kept stepping from side to side, too anxious to stand still. When she looked at him she felt warm and happy but his obvious agitation scared her. The second was at least twenty years older than the first. Half his face was concealed by a porcelain mask. He stood very still and seemed to melt into the shadows as if he did not want to be seen. He looked at her with eyes that adored but a thick aura of sadness hung around him and her heart felt heavy with some unknown burden. The third man was older than either of the others. He seemed to glow with life and he smiled blissfully at her when she looked at him. In that moment she felt entirely peaceful and filled with love. _

_The first man practically ran over to her, then began to shake her vigorously at the shoulders. "Christine, Christine! The mask! You must take off the mask! Then you will understand everything. It is very important that you do this. Don't you want your memory to return? You must take off the mask!" Suddenly a bright flash filled her mind and she realized who this man was. Finally she was able to speak. "Raoul? Oh, Raoul, I had forgotten who you were. How silly. How could I forget such a thing?" But as she spoke the words he smiled and then he was gone._

_The second man was behind her and she only knew of his presence when he spoke softly into her ear. "Oh, Christine, my love, you must remember. You must remember how much I love you. Don't leave me when you remember who I am." He began to sob and she felt him clutch at her from behind. She turned around and looked into his eyes. She was flooded with emotion and her heart felt as if it would burst with love. But still she did not know who this man was. That's when she felt a tap on her shoulder._

_The third man stood behind her, reaching out his arms to hold her. As soon as she was in his embrace she knew who he was, without any words having to be spoken. "Daddy! Oh, I've missed you so!" They continued to hold each other for a long time before he finally spoke. "My Little Lotte, I've sent to you the Angel of Music but you have forgotten who he is. The only way to remember is to take off his mask and face what lies beneath without fear. You must remember the reason you have forgotten everything. When you do you will have your Angel. I love you Christine." She cried out because he had disappeared, leaving her alone with the man weeping at her feet. She looked above him at the iron tree. There was something so familiar about it. He stood up an faced her. "I am ready. You need to know the truth." She looked up at him and thought she could never love anyone more and she didn't even know who he was. She reached up and grasped the edges of the porcelain and began to pull. A bright light spread out from underneath the mask as she lifted it free. She felt a sense of clarity: suddenly she understood everything._

And then she awoke.

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Erik was a decidedly light sleeper who woke at the sound of a pin being dropped onto carpet, however on this particular night he was unusually relaxed and slept on even as Christine awoke and slipped out of bed.

She paced the floor nervously as she thought. That man in her dream, the young one, had been the same man who had been outside the window, warning her about Erik and trying to take her away. His name was Raoul. He was a childhood playmate. They had been engaged but she'd left him. Why? She remembered quite a lot about Raoul but there were large patches of nothing in between, as if certain pieces of a rather large puzzle had been lost. She remembered him telling her to look behind the mask. And in the dream both he and her father had repeated the command. Even Erik had allowed her to do it, to take off his mask.

She gnawed at one of her nails and stared at her sleeping husband. 'Well he certainly can't expect that I would never look. And if it would restore my memory, he would be so happy,' she thought hopefully. She was so afraid. Somehow she knew taking it off would change everything and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted things to change. She had been happy nearly every moment that she could remember. What if taking off the mask enabled her to remember but her memories were pain-filled and unhappy? There was a pop as she bit fully through the nail and she watched concernedly as Erik stirred in his sleep. Finally she decided: she had to do it; she had to know who she was.

She crept over to the bed and hovered over Erik's sleeping form. Lightly gripping the edges of the mask she pulled but felt resistance. 'Of course,' she thought, "it must be tied on in the back.' She was unsure of how to go about untying it when he was laying on top the ribbon but almost as if on cue, he turned over in his sleep and she was faced with the black ties. She undid each as quickly as she could with one hand while the other held the mask in place. Finally they were undone and all that remained for her to do was lift. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes while she took the thing off and lay it carefully on the bed. Breathing out she opened her eyes, only to see her entire life flash before them in a kaleidoscope of color, scent, pictures and emotion. At the end of it all she saw Erik's face, naked before her, exposing every fault to her eyes.

She stood for several minutes, staring at the face before her and comprehending. Ultimately she couldn't manage the influx of information and emotion so she left, knowing full well what Erik would think to find his mask off and her gone. She only hoped he would find her and let her explain to him that it was not insensitivity that caused her to take off his mask but a need to know who she truly was. Nor was it disregard for him that caused her to flee but the pusillanimity that stirred in her breast at the magnitude of the insight she had uncovered.

Erik felt a soft breeze brush past his face and smiled at the sensation. His hand reached up to touch the spot where he had felt it and he shot out of bed.

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**a/n : she remembers! finally. :P thanks to invaderoperaghost, authorgirl (i will stop by and read yours soon, i promise!), music'senchantment (your plea has been heard and will be answered soon!), ihearterik and altgirl76 who reviewed the last chapter. hope you guys will all be satisfied with the conclusion...which should be within the next couple of chapters. (:**


	20. As Angels Wept

**Chapter 20- As Angels Wept**

**At the end of it all she saw Erik's face, naked before her, exposing every fault to her eyes.**

**She stood for several minutes, staring at the face before her and comprehending. Ultimately she couldn't manage the influx of information and emotion so she left, knowing full well what Erik would think to find his mask off and her gone. She only hoped he would find her and let her explain to him that it was not insensitivity that caused her to take off his mask but a need to know who she truly was. Nor was it disregard for him that caused her to flee but the pusillanimity that stirred in her breast at the magnitude of the insight she had uncovered.**

**Erik felt a soft breeze brush past his face and smiled at the sensation. His hand reached up to touch the spot where he had felt it and he shot out of bed.**

**----- ----- ----- ----- -----**

There it was. The white porcelain looking up at him from the bed, mocking him with it's purity. He knew without even having to survey the room that she was gone, probably on a train back to Paris.

"Why? Why did she do it? It's all that damned boy's fault. He told her to take it off. And now she's left me. How could she do it?"

"How? How? You fool! I told you this would happen but you wouldn't listen. You were in love so it didn't matter to you that she would tear your heart out, you believed she could learn to see past the mask, to love you in return! Fool! How many times did I tell you things would end this way? And each time you told me to go away. Well no more! I left you alone and now you're in danger again, because of her! She is probably out right now informing the authorities. They will be out looking for you and if they find you they will kill you. Or worse! They will send you back to the freak show in chains!"

Erik sobbed in a crumpled heap on the floor, listening to the rant while still trying to understand how he had allowed her to blind him once again. He had been so sure this time...

"Snap out of it! You must find her! You have to stop her from telling them!"

"But how?"

"It doesn't matter how. Just do it!"

Erik longed for opium. Anything to numb the pain and silence the voice which continued to spout vile and evil things to him. He found himself growing angrier with each passing second, agreeing with the awful voice. _She had done this to him!_ She had tortured him with kisses and tender words. How he had longed to take her that night, when she'd offered herself to him. And now he would never have her! Damn her! Damn her for making him believe there would be a chance at happiness when all the while she must have been plotting her escape. She had probably sent for her lover, that contemptible _boy_. Had she not pleaded with him for his life? Oh, it was all an act and he had been cuckolded by her once again.

He grabbed his lasso from the bedside table and put his mask back in place. He would find her. He would find her and he would make her suffer as she had made him suffer. This would be the end. She would torture him no more! He ignored the pleading voice inside him, begging him to believe that she could not possibly done something so cruel to him. She had been falling in love with him! Soon it was drowned out completely by the violent and hateful thoughts that screamed to him of her deceit.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

He might have been amazed at how easily she eluded him were it not for the single-minded determination with which he searched. There were no thoughts in his head and no nameable emotion gripped his heart; there was only adrenaline, which compelled him to move forward in pursuit of Christine, heedless of anything or anyone who got in his way.

He went to every park, every tavern, every dock in the city. Anyplace she could escape to or police officer she could inform. But there was nothing. She had no money with her and only the clothes on her back so she could not have gone far, yet here he was, hours later and still there was no sign of her. With each passing minute his temperature rose hotter until one who saw the deep shade of red radiating from his face and put a hand to his forehead would think he was taken with fever.

Night was drawing near and he had not yet eaten but he felt no pangs of hunger, nor did he salivate at the aromas he passed as he stalked the streets of Milan. Tomatoes, basil, garlic, onions, fresh baked bread... The scent of Italy was delicious food and its music the dull roar of families arguing over the dinner table. Expensive Italian fashions adorned the feet and bodies of it's women who clung to the arms of their equally well dressed husbands. A young man, barely 17 whispered something to a girl that made her blush. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close for a tender kiss which she accepted happily. A baby's wail reached his ears from a nearby home, quieted quickly with the offering of a breast.

All of his senses were being ruthlessly attacked. It wasn't simply to hide from those who might cage him that led Erik to occupy his underground lair; it was to escape from the happiness of those who had deemed him _freak_. It was a life that he had been denied because of the monstrosity that was his face and putting distance between himself and humanity had been the only way to cope. Now he was being confronted with it from all sides while he searched for the one who would deny him that which he wanted above all else. It was only by sheer force of will that he was able to continue on in his emotionless, hell-bent state, while the scents, sounds and sights of _**life**_ seemed to seep in through his very pores.

He continued on, not even knowing what he would do when he found her. He knew, deep down within himself, that he could never kill her, though he stroked the catgut lasso he held with relish. He had been almost surprised to realize that she had not gone to the authorities but certainly none were looking for him. Policemen walked lazily along the street, stopping to watch a group of children play hopscotch and even as they glanced up and caught sight of the masked man roaming their streets, hardly bothered with more than a comment about the "eccentricities of the wealthy."

He happened upon a large crowd of people and sank once again into the shadows but curiosity demanded that he wait and see why they had gathered before he moved on. They effectively blocked from his view the object of their fascination and he was becoming rather irritated at not being able to know what had caused such a stir. There was applause that originated from the center and he could make out bits and pieces of conversation coming from those milling about around him which seemed to indicate that a great singer had been performing at this spot nearly all day long and was about to sing a selection from _Faust_. Erik felt the hair on his neck rise and sucked in a deep breath of air upon hearing the first notes. _It was her!_

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Christine had fled from the hotel without quite knowing where she intended to go. She had not wanted to end up too far away, for he might never find her. Too close and he would find her too soon, before she would have a chance to properly think things through. She found a beautiful area that she heard several people refer to as the Porta Venezia Gardens. From the little Italian she knew she managed to learn that it had recently been renovated and she took her time smelling each flower and letting the aesthetic charm rejuvenate her senses.

After a few hours in the peaceful setting she had managed to work through her memories, spending time with each one and getting to know herself again. Reconciling the new memories of her short time in the house with Erik and the old ones of her former life was easier than she had anticipated, especially upon remembering the last few months before the torture chamber. Of the torture chamber itself she remembered almost nothing other than dropping into it and a vague sense of terror.

When she had finished putting the pieces of her life in order she felt a great sense of relief. There were no longer any unanswered questions or feelings of unease in the pit of her stomach. There was no great weight on her shoulders as to what to do with Erik, the answer to that question had been obvious to her from the start. She had gone to the torture chamber to find him. She had missed him horribly and needed to be with him. And while she had been with him in the little house she had fallen irrevocably in love with him. No, there was no question as to what to do about Erik, other than how she was going to make him believe that she truly did love him.

She began to sing to herself, walking along the rows of flowers and watching the people who strolled along the garden alongside her. As she passed a few would stop and listen to her, making favorable comments about her voice. She stopped at a particularly beautiful display of roses and sang of _The Nightingale and the Rose._ By the time she had finished a whole crowd of people had gathered to listen and begged her to continue.

She sang each song for him, hoping to draw him near with her voice. After several hours she was beginning to lose hope but continued to sing, almost without pause. A few people were kind enough to bring her water and bread and the crowd milled about for a while as she ate. She decided to sing something she knew he would not be able to resist. There was a smattering of applause as she stood back up and announced that she was ready to begin again.

She began to sing Marguerite's plea to the Angels and within the first few lines she knew: he was here. Her voice rose to heights she had not known it could climb, stunning her impromptu audience into silence. Her eyes scanned the crowd until she found the eyes she was looking for, blazing at her with unrestrained love and desire. She directed the words at him, pouring every fiber of her being into the song. Their eyes held as she continued the aria, neither wanting to break the intense contact.

The song drew to a close and having spent all her energy giving him her soul she collapsed to the ground. Several hands reached out to help her but she brushed them away. "Tonight I gave you my soul." She whispered, waiting with bated breath for the correct reply.

She heard it at her ear, a whisper audible only to the one meant to hear it, "Your soul is a beautiful thing, child, and I thank you. No emperor ever received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight."

She closed her eyes and allowed him to pick her up, both of them ignoring the protests of the crowd, completely oblivious to anything but each other.

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**a/n: wow...that was the hardest chapter yet to write, hope you enjoy it (: it's not over yet... (by the way i used a line directly from the Leroux novel, though i wish i'd written it, tonight i gave you my soul and the response are both Leroux.) special thanks to authorgirl, madhatter45, ihearterik, music'senchantment and paola a. who reviewed the last chapter. (: (: you all make my day!**


	21. Point Of No Return

**Chapter 21- Point Of No Return**

Erik held Christine carefully in his arms, feeling on some level that this moment was as delicate as a soap bubble. Afraid to close his eyes for fear that it might burst and disappear while he wasn't looking; he continued to watch her the entire walk back to the hotel. When she fell asleep, still clutching tightly to the lapel of his shirt, his heart quavered frantically in his chest.

'How could it be? How could she fall asleep in his arms, knowing the demon beneath the mask?' That simple act continued to amaze him and he was reluctant to lay her down on the bed, having finally reached their destination. Just as he was about to put her down she moved slightly and opened heavy eyes to look up at him. A sleepy smile graced her lips and she moved her arms to encircle his neck, causing his heart to palpitate even faster. What was she doing?

"Erik, my Angel, I love you."

His heart was beating so hard he thought it might give out suddenly, his mind had gone completely numb and all he could do was watch as she brought one of her hands to his head and began to undo the ties that bound the mask to his face. It fell to the floor and she brought the hand back up to caress the scarred tissue. He hissed in pleasure at the contact, reveling in the sensation of her soft hands stroking his own ravaged skin.

Finally he spoke, the words leaving his mouth in a strained whisper. "But how? How can you love me after having seen what lies beneath the mask?"

"Because I've always loved you Erik. I loved you even when you were just the beautiful voice behind my dressing room." Here Erik's head shot up in stupefaction. "Yes, darling, I remember. I remember everything." Erik was confused, if she remembered everything, then why was she still here? Why was she letting him hold her?

"Didn't you ever wonder why I was in your underground home? It wasn't by accident. I was hoping to find you so I could tell you that I loved you. But even when I went looking for you I didn't completely understand my feelings. It wasn't until I spent those wonderful months with you in your house that I allowed myself to fall completely in love with you, with no reservations or fear."

Erik's head was swimming as he continued to stare at Christine's smiling face. He could see no reason for her to deceive him, yet he found it impossible to believe what she was saying. She remembered everything...she was coming to find him to tell him...that _she loved him_?

Christine used her hand to bring his face closer to hers and began to kiss his face, eventually ending at his mouth. He moaned in pleasure and eagerly responded to her tender kisses, transforming them into deeper, more passionate ones. He pulled away and sat her down on the bed, cupping her face in his hands and staring intently into her eyes.

"Christine, if this isn't what-"

"Shhh... Erik, I know that you find it hard to trust and especially to trust that someone loves you. But I beg you, trust me, I do love you. I want this."

Erik could feel his heart slow down, time seemed to stand still at her words. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. He could hear the words repeat over and again in his head and he felt fearful and joyful at once. He was so afraid that this was a dream he would wake up from to find himself alone again. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood and was surprised at the pain he felt. She was actually saying these words to him! It was true! His heart trembled in his breast and he felt a warmth like he had never known travel from it to his entire being, spreading the magnificent sensation to his limbs, his soul, his mind. He was completely overwhelmed by the feeling and for a moment it seemed to him that he could die right now. Then he realized: he needn't die. She was his! She loved him, she was his! She was willingly his!

He stood up and walked to the bathroom, leaving Christine alone for almost half an hour during which she prayed for the miracle of his trust in her. Finally he reappeared and took her hand in his.

"You've had a long day, Christine, and I thought that you might like a bath to relax."

He led her in to the bathroom (which was rather large, being that he had insisted that they stay in the best hotel in Milan) and she gasped. The room was filled with candles and rose petals littered the floor and the water in the tub. She closed her eyes as she felt him undo the buttons at the back of her dress, then help her out of her corset, shift and shoes. She sat in the tub and let him wash her hair as a warm tingling sensation crept its way up her spine and settled in her neck and scalp. He continued to wash her everywhere until the sensation spread to her limbs and stomach, making her feel weak and giddy.

At the end he offered her his hand and while she stood on the plush carpet he dried her off with the softest towel she'd ever felt. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered to her, "Keep your eyes closed." She felt nervous with anticipation at what he had planned, as well as the fact that she was standing naked to his gaze and had her own eyes closed.

"Keep them closed." His voice was husky but held a hint of amusement to it.

She felt something soft touch her face and circle it until it rested at her lips. She smelled...roses? The sleeping bud had yet to burst into bloom and felt velvety soft. She sighed as it once again began to move and made its way along her neck followed by the hot breath of the one who held it. She moaned as he placed the first kiss at the hollow of her throat, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips. The rose continued to trail down her body, up and down each arm, circling her breasts, down her stomach to spiral in towards her navel, Erik's lips always following. The rose moved up and down her legs and brushed past the center of her sex. She shuddered as he kissed her there and her knees began to give way.

Erik scooped her up in his arms and lay her down on the bed. "Tell me this is what you want. Tell me you -"

"I want you Erik, I want all of you. I love you." He closed his eyes blissfully but was suddenly filled with apprehension.

He wanted to worship her like the angel that she was but he was a virgin himself and knew little of sex, in the actual sense. Certainly he had read books on the subject, watched the ballet rats changing in their dressing rooms, heard the vulgar talk of the stage hands... But never had he thought there would be use for that knowledge. Even more frightening was the thought that he might hurt her. He had heard that the first time was painful for women and he would never forgive himself if he caused her pain.

Christine guessed at the reason for his sudden pause and brought her hand up once again to caress his face. He looked her in the eyes, his own filled with fear and longing.

"Erik, I promise, you won't break me. I trust you." Her pupils were dilated and reflected the adoration and wanting she felt inside, giving him permission to continue.

Erik stood up and undressed himself then climbed back onto the bed and kissed her long and lovingly on the mouth. Their tongues pushed and twirled causing glorious sensations to erupt throughout their bodies. Their skin heated where they made contact, her hands running up and down his back, feeling the scars and trying to erase them with her fingertips. His own hands moved through her hair, then brushed her neck and shoulders sending delighted shivers down her spine.

He timidly grazed a breast with his palm and she arched her back, pressing it deeper into his hand. He grew bolder and kneaded it firmly, then brought his mouth down to flick at her nipple with his tongue, bringing a purr from Christine's throat.

He used his fingers to trace her stomach, hips and thighs, raising goosebumps on the exquisite flesh. She moaned low in her throat as they brushed past her most sensitive spot and elicited a cry of pleasure as they gently rubbed the tiny bud that lay within. She was wet with desire and Erik could feel his own body respond.

"Please, Erik...Please."

He acquiesced with her plea and entered her slowly, feeling her tense as he reached her internal barrier. He took a deep breath and steadied himself before pushing past it. He heard her cry out in pain and nearly stopped but she told him to continue and the physical and emotional ecstasy were urging him on as well.

Erik was sweating as he reached the end of his self control, releasing himself into his beloved. They lay like that for several moments, exhausted and happy, until Erik rolled over and Christine snuggled into the crook of his arm. His arms tightened around her small form possessively, feeling absolutely content for the first time in his long life.

"I love you." She whispered sleepily. "I love you." He kissed her on the head and they fell asleep together, warm in each other's embrace and the knowledge of their love.

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**a/n : this one took a while to write...hope it was worth the wait, i was a bit nervous about it (; so for heaven's sake review! thanks to ihearterik, goodbyeybr, altgirl76, music'senchantment and authorgirl who reviewed chapter 19, i heart you! by the way, this story isn't quite over yet, i still have one final chapter and the epilogue. **


	22. You'll Understand In Time

**Chapter 22- You'll Understand In Time**

The next several days found the pair in a state of rapture, neither believing that they could be as blessed as to have requited their love. Erik's eyes never left Christine, still afraid that he would awake to find himself alone and miserable. Christine never let her hand stray from Erik's, sensing his fear and wanting to reassure him that their happiness was very much real.

They decided to return to France, both of them missing their little home and Ayesha who had been left in Joseph's care during their trip. On the train ride back Erik assured Christine that Raoul was still alive and grudgingly agreed to bring her to Paris where she could visit with him. He was not at all pleased with the idea but did see her logic: the boy would certainly never leave them alone unless Christine herself convinced him of her choice.

He sighed as he watched her face, so serene as she slept contentedly with her head in his lap. He brushed a stray hair aside, still marveling that he was allowed to touch her. She stirred slightly and a small smile appeared on her face causing him to wonder what she was dreaming about.

"Only cheerful dreams from now on, my sweet." He whispered quietly in her ear before kissing her forehead.

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Raoul paced the parlor floor, anxiously awaiting his guests. He wore a high collar to disguise the nearly faded bruises around his neck, not wanting his brother to find out that he was still "playing hero to the Daae girl" as he often referred to their relationship. But what would Phillipe have him do? Simply ignore the fact that the girl had once again been abducted by that madman?

"Damnit, where are they?"

He pulled open the door only to find Henri standing on the other side with his hand raised to knock.

"Sir, your guests are here. Shall I show them in?"

"Yes, Henri. And be sure to bring some tea after they have been seated."

"Of course, sir."

Moments later he was staring at the placid face of Madame Giry and the glowing Christine. She had hugged him fiercely upon seeing him and he returned the gesture in kind, being more than grateful for her safe return.

"It would appear that our young Miss Daae has some news for us. She insisted that we wait until the three of us were together before revealing the source of her happiness despite nearly bursting with giddiness the entire ride here." Madame Giry's voice held the barest hint of amusement as she spoke and Raoul found himself growing more and more impatient the longer his curiosity was not sated.

Finally Christine spoke, hardly containing the joy in her voice. "I know you must both be wondering what happened to me these last few months or where I disappeared to last week but I am here to tell you that you needn't worry about me any longer, for my greatest happiness has been fulfilled."

Here she paused and looked at each one of them, praying that they, and especially Raoul, would understand. "It is true that I have been with Erik all this time but not as his prisoner. You see it was through my own fault that I suffered amnesia; I was searching for Erik in the opera house after seeing him meet with Madame, hoping to tell him that I missed him and longed to renew our companionship, but I fell instead into his torture chamber by mistake. Had Erik not found me I would most surely be dead now."

Here both Madame Giry and Raoul blanched and Christine took a moment to nibble on a cookie, nervously awaiting their reaction to her next words. Finally she continued after taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"The months I spent with Erik in his house were the happiest of my life, except for the nightmares I suffered in connection with my lost memory. However, and I must thank you Raoul, for you were the catalyst in this, my memory has since returned to me and I can tell you now, without a doubt, I am in love with Erik and wish to spend my life with him."

There was a strained silence in the room and she shyly took another cookie while she watched their reactions. Madame turned white with shock and stared at Christine, mouth agape. Raoul looked for several moments as if he did not comprehend what she had said, then turned white himself before starting to pace the floor angrily.

"Have you gone mad? Christine, is he here now? Did he force you to say this so that we would leave him alone with you? Tell me!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her, causing the cookie to fall out her mouth and into her lap. She was surprised only for a moment by his outburst, then sighed, feeling a great love for her friend who only wanted to protect her. If only she could convince him there was nothing she needed to be protected from.

"Raoul, calm down. Please. I know that you only want the best for me, that you're afraid of what Erik has done, but I assure you there is nothing to be afraid of."

"Nothing to be afraid of? Christine, the man has killed. He nearly killed me when I went to that house to warn you about him."

"Raoul he only did those things to protect himself from a world that hated and feared him. And when you came to the house he thought, not incorrectly, that you were there to take me away from him. Would you not have done the same if a man had tried to take me from you? Did you not yourself try to kill Erik? Darling, please, he loves me. He will take good care of me. I know that this is hard for you to accept this but you must. And Erik has promised me that he will allow me to come back to Paris to visit with you, so you will be able to see for yourself that I am all right."

She held his hands as she spoke, hoping somehow that her touch might convince him. He looked intently into her eyes as she spoke, not really able to fully accept what she was saying but not knowing what else to do.

"You are truly happy, this is what you want?"

"I am happy. And I want this more than anything."

"Then I suppose there is nothing more to say. You will continue to visit me? Often?"

"Of course Raoul. I love you. And you," she said, turning to Madame Giry, "I will of course be visiting you and dear Meg as well."

By now Madame Giry had managed to compose herself and though she remained somewhat doubtful of the whole situation, Christine's obvious joy and the fact that Erik was going to let her come see Raoul and herself gave her some measure of peace. She stood up and grasped Christine's hands in her own, looking her straight in the eye.

"If you ever need anything, you know that I would try to help you in any way that I could?"

"Of course." Christine smiled warmly at the woman who had once been her ballet mistress, her happiness complete now that her and Raoul had, at the very least, grudgingly accepted her and Erik's relationship.

"Now, would you like to visit your 'dear Meg'? She has been asking about you incessantly since you disappeared and I think it would do a great deal of good if you were to go see her yourself."

"Oh, of course! I have missed her terribly...well, at least since I have remembered who she was." Christine laughed sheepishly and elicited a chuckle from Madame and even from Raoul. The three agreed that they would meet Meg for lunch after ballet rehearsals and spend the rest of the day together until Christine had to return home, knowing that they had much to catch up on.

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When Erik picked her up at the opera house in his black carriage, Christine was exhausted from the day's events. She was about to slide into the front beside him but he insisted that she ride in the back, he did not want her to catch a chill. Within moments Christine was asleep and when they arrived home Erik was reluctant to wake her, deciding instead to pick her up and carry her to the house himself, relishing the contact with her sleeping form.

Once in their bedroom he carefully undressed her, hoping not to wake her when she seemed so peaceful. He found it rather impossible once he got to her corset though and she looked up at him with sleep filled eyes as she awoke.

"Shhh... go back to sleep my love."

Instead of heeding his words she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, bring his face down to meet hers in a languid kiss. While their lips were engaged she undid the ties to his mask and threw it to the side, finding it only a hindrance at times like this.

Erik turned her around and finished undoing her corset then lifted her thin shift above her head, drinking in the beauty before him. Though each of them had grown bolder in their lovemaking over the last few days, Erik had yet to get over (and he really doubted that he ever would) his reverence when touching her body. His adoration of her only served to further Christine's ecstasy and she accepted his worship gratefully.

He lay her back down on the bed and his hand found a full breast while his mouth occupied it's twin. Christine moaned loudly and arched herself up towards his face, happy to give herself up to the moment.

They were interrupted in their lovemaking but once, when Ayesha decided to leap into bed and investigate the strange noises coming from her mistress. Erik growled in frustration and Christine could hardly stifle her giggles as he had to get up and place the cat outside the door and pull it shut - firmly.

"Do you find something amusing, my dear?"

"No...of course...not..." She was doubled over on the bed and Erik felt rather irritated, what was so damn funny? His irritation quickly disappeared, however, when she reached for him, still smiling broadly, and pulled him on top of her.

"I love you."

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After finishing making love Erik sang to her until she fell asleep then watched her breathe for several minutes before heading back downstairs and pouring himself a brandy. He sat at his desk staring at the composition paper that lay haphazardly before him. Remembering the aria he had thought of on the train ride to Italy he found quill and ink to copy it. The next several hours were spent at the piano composing and revising; Erik felt as if his muse had suddenly returned to his life. A smile found its way to his lips as he realized that she had.

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**a/n : ok...only the epilogue to go...some things to note, however - this is not the "end" of the story, only to this half. so don't hate me too much if you think it should go on, there will be, as requested, a sequel. (: the epilogue will be kind of an in-between point for this story and that one. i'm not sure when i'll start writing the sequel though, so please be patient. **

**as always, read and review (: special thanks to signedog, authorgirl, music'senchantment, altgirl76, ihearterik and madhatter45 who reviewed the last chapter (:**


	23. The Wedding Mass

**Chapter 23- The Wedding Mass ::** 3 Months Later

Christine used the back of her hand to wipe her tears away as Meg artfully arranged her hair atop her head. There were no words to describe what she was feeling at this moment. Meg looked down to see her friend's tears and shook her head.

"Christine, you're supposed to be happy."

"I am Meg. I'm happier than I ever thought possible. I don't know why I'm crying, I feel so silly."

Looking down at her lap Christine closed her eyes and sighed. So much had changed over the last two years and sometimes she could hardly believe where life had taken her. From the naive daughter of a poor violinist to the fiance of the Vicomte de Chagny. And now...

"How does it look?"

"What? Oh! It's beautiful Meg, really you've done a wonderful job."

Christine examined herself in the mirror and found herself pleased with the result of her friend's efforts. She wanted to look perfect for him - he deserved nothing less. The few ringlets allowed to escape the elaborate hairstyle framed her porcelain face and bounced lightly as she turned her head from side to side. She smiled and stood, feeling like a princess in the beautiful gown she wore, though she knew most would consider it improper for such an occasion.

"It's time, my dear." Madame Giry looked at her, almost disapprovingly (though Christine could hardly blame her for that, considering...), then disappeared to take her place outside. Christine took a deep breath and listened for the music that was her cue to walk. She heard it, the delicate notes written especially for this moment wafting over her and filling her with unspeakable joy. Stepping out of the tent she made her way down the makeshift aisle, looking at the few faces that had gathered to witness one of the most important moments of her life.

Madame Giry stood near the front, stern as ever, softened only by the hint of a smile that touched her lips. Despite the celebratory mood she wore her customary black, which Meg had begged her change but to no avail. Meg stood next to her mother, fidgeting with her own dress, light pink and busty despite her mother's protests. She tapped her foot in anticipation and barely contained excitement, causing Christine's mouth to curve upwards in a grin.

The only other people to attend were the church organ player and the priest, who was carefully chosen and only agreed to officiate after a handsome sum was paid to his church. His shock upon seeing the bride, even after being told what she would be wearing, was obvious.

Christine thought with some measure of sadness of the only other people who she wished to be here: her father, who she prayed was looking down upon her with pride and Raoul, who still had trouble accepting her love. He had responded to her invitation with a short note, politely declining but extending to her his best wishes.

After taking in each of the guests and sending out good thoughts to those who did not come or who were uninvited, she turned her attention to the man who would soon be her husband.

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Erik was a wreck. Never in his life had he been so nervous and he anxiously paced in the grass outside the church. He had been very specific when choosing a priest, sending out Joseph and Antoinette to interview at least twenty in the area surrounding his home before finally making his selection. The man chosen had met all of Erik's qualifications: he was easily frightened and greedy enough to let money sway him to "look the other way" at certain aspects of the wedding, as well as to remain silent about anything "odd" he might find about the groom.

He knew that, being a devout Catholic, his love had been upset at the thought that she had given herself to him before any wedding vows had been said. He chastised himself over and over for not having realized this sooner but she assured him that while she was dismayed with herself for not having waited, she could never regret making love to him. He still felt guilty, however, and told her that they would cease any lovemaking until properly wed.

She had jumped up from her chair, completely ecstatic, "Oh, Erik, really? You want to marry me?"

"Of course, my love. Did you ever doubt it?"

And now, here he was on his wedding day, waiting for his bride to appear. The priest cleared his throat, announcing that he was ready to begin, and the organ player began to play the first notes of the wedding mass Erik had created so many years ago upon first seeing Christine.

There was movement in the corner of his eye and as he saw her appear his heart nearly leapt from his chest. She was wearing a silk dress of scarlet red, slightly off the shoulders and form fitting until the waist where it spread out in waves of fabric. Dainty red heels adorned her feet and she walked slowly but surely towards him, dazzling him with her undeniable beauty.

She had told him earlier that she felt wrong about wearing white, thinking that it would be dishonest. He assured her that no one but he knew of their time together and he couldn't imagine what other color a bride would wear. Certainly not this!

She smiled at his reaction and placed a gloved hand in his own, giving it a small squeeze before turning to the priest, who stood before them with mouth agape, not quite believing what he saw before him. One look at Erik's face though and he immediately began recite the ceremony.

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It seemed as if it was over too quickly and Erik was hardly able to fathom the fact that he was now married to Christine. His hand found her fingers and felt for the small gold band that now bedecked her left ring finger. She looked into his eyes and smiled before pulling his head down to meet hers in a kiss.

"Now, Erik, I have a secret for you."

Christine led the hand that was still intertwined with hers over to her belly and placed it just below her navel. Erik seemed confused for a moment before the realization suddenly came to him. He looked into her eyes for assurance and found them overflowing with tears, though a smile lit her face.

"Christine?"

"Yes, Erik, a baby. Our baby."

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**a/n : so this is the final chapter in this half of the story. i hope you enjoyed it... (though i'm a bit nervous now since the last chapter didn't seem to be very well received ): or at least i didn't get any reviews for it) i'll start working on the sequel soon, though first i'm going to finish up a oneshot i've been working on over the last week. for the love of god review!!!!!!!!!!**


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